


platonic: 100%

by sorbetjin



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Jeon Jungkook, Awkwardness, Baby Jeon Jungkook, Choking, Cockblocking, Confident Jeon Jungkook, Confident Park Jimin (BTS), Cute, Dancer Jeon Jungkook, Dancer Park Jimin (BTS), Denial, Denial of Feelings, Drama, Drunken Kissing, Flirty Park Jimin (BTS), Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin are Best Friends, Light-Hearted, Love Triangles, M/M, Personal Growth, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Secret Crush, Sexual Tension, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-10-12 03:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20557187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorbetjin/pseuds/sorbetjin
Summary: In which Park Jimin blatantly denies his feelings for Jeon Jungkook because he's totally straight and loves women, obviously.// jikook high school au





	1. platonic: 100%

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to be a light-hearted jikook au :)) I'm just writing this for fun so it's a bit different from my normal style, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this!
> 
> I should probably clarify that where I'm from, juniors mean first-years, js to avoid any confusion. everyone's age gap is the same as irl

To be fair, Jimin had never wanted anything in his whole life. After all, he had good grades, good dancing skills, good voice, good looks, good friends-- asking for more would just be utterly arrogant of him. So what could someone like him; someone who had everything, possibly want?

Well, to sum it all up, he was in his senior year, minding his own business, thinking it was just going to be another year of school left to go through before going into the real world. Everything was going just as his life plan had intended. He was being offered scholarships here and there, getting scouted by companies every other day. It was safe to say that he had no worries whatsoever as a student.

What he didn’t expect, however, was being completely enamoured with a first-year student. A male one, at that. How did this happen to him, the straightest man alive (who, for all his life had wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by women, mind you) you ask?

Well, it all started on the first day back to school. Jimin didn’t bother listening to the speech—he had heard the same, recycled speech every year. He had pretty much memorised everything the principle said, down to the timing of the stupidly dramatic pauses he always made before announcing the school’s specialty—the extra good, extra cool, extra amazing (and did he mention it was cool?) dance classes in the evening. It wasn’t like almost 90% of the student applied to that school _specifically_ for those dance lessons, anyway.

Though Jimin was bored out of his mind, he had a good boy image to maintain, what with being part of the student council and everything. He kept his posture straight, his smile intact, and gazed ahead with blank eyes. Okay, just because he _had_ to listen, didn’t mean he _would_. Next to him, Taehyung somehow managed to embody everything he was not. He slouched in his seat, legs spread wider than his actual chair, snoring to his heart’s content with his head resting on Jimin’s shoulder, giggling in his sleep about that one anime he had been obsessed with recently.

Normally, Jimin would shove him awake. But he felt kind of bad since Taehyung had to work a late-night shift the day before, so he just let him stay there, though it wasn’t like he was missing much by being asleep. Jimin sighed, wishing he could just do the same instead of listening to the principal ramble on and on about the school’s facilities.

After the speech had ended, whilst clapping absent-mindedly, Jimin figured he should take a look at their juniors. After all, he would have to take care of them later as their senior. Getting a good overview would do no harm.

Except it did. To his heart, of course.

As his eyes glided over the crowd, it landed on a particularly timid looking guy. He had large round eyes, flushed ears and cheeks that made Jimin want to squeeze them. He was easily the cutest guy Jimin had ever seen, if only his body didn’t massively contrast his adorable looks—his muscles strained against his uniform, his buttons threatening to pop off at any moment.

Jimin gulped. He should look away before his teachers noticed he wasn’t paying attention. But somehow, he just wanted to keep staring at the way his biceps bulged; the way he gripped his thighs anxiously with his large hands. Jimin found himself zoning out when he started worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

He shook his head, surprised at himself for behaving so inappropriately. Okay, now he kind of understood why Taehyung always joked around and called him a pervert. He shouldn’t be imagining tearing off his junior’s clothes, but here he was, shamelessly staring at the most attractive guy he had ever seen. That was a big compliment, considering he hung out with Taehyung daily.

But of course, he was just admiring his body because it was his ideal figure. And he was admiring his face because he was so cute, exactly like how Jimin wanted to appear to the girls he _definitely_ liked. Surely, it meant nothing more than admiration as a fellow male, _right_?

He thought he could forget ever seeing that guy, but he was sorely mistaken. Jimin should have realized that like the majority of the students here, he would also be taking the extra dance lessons.

Jimin was doing his stretches when he saw the unmistakable cute face once again. The shy boy was drowning in his oversized sweater, but damn did his grey sweatpants distract Jimin. He seemed unsure of what to do, staring around with those large doe eyes, confused. Jimin kind of understood how he felt. He wished that he had someone to tell him that most of their classes would start like, two hours after the scheduled time. Those two hours were reserved for self-practice, mostly because most of the students were trainees who needed time for themselves.

He (very casually) started making his way towards the poor boy, stretching as he did, to not look _too_ suspicious. And dare he say it, he did a good job.

“Ooh, my back, wished I haven’t been slacking off on stretching for two days!” He said, not looking at his target, because that would obviously give him away. A few large, inconspicuous steps later, he turned to the boy, hand on his hips, eyes wide. “Oh, didn’t see you there! Hi, I’m Park Jimin. What’s your name?”

Damn, he was so smooth, he would date himself if he could. He should be an actor, considering how good he was at pretending. That boy shouldn’t suspect a damn _thing_.

Ignoring the concerned glances thrown their way and the startled look on the boy’s face, he beamed expectantly at the guy, who was just a few centimetres taller than him.

“I’m Jung—Jeon Jungkook.” He stammered, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.

Jimin felt his mind go blank for a second. It just hit him how impossibly cute this guy was upclose.

“…Hello?”

Jimin quickly gathered himself, powering up his killer smile once again. “Hi! The teacher won’t be here for another hour and a half. We usually just play around and practice ourselves before that.”

Jungkook’s eyes looked everywhere but him. Jimin found it sort of frustrating, but also kind of cute and endearing. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it. Wanna come join me and my friends?”

He glanced at the messy pile of bag and clothes in his little corner, and the crumpled up milk carton on the ground. Jimin made a quick mental note to himself that Jungkook liked banana milk.

Soon after, Jimin quickly found out that Jungkook was not the shy timid guy he once was. A few months had passed since the entrance ceremony, and Jeon Jungkook had since revealed his true personality. Not that he minded, of course. He was still cute, sill muscular, still good at dancing. The only difference was now, he would mercilessly tease Jimin about his height whenever he felt like it. But it wasn’t like Jimin wasn’t the one who started it all by bombarding him with (totally not real, totally just jokes) fake flirty remarks.

He saw the familiar round head of his junior around the corner, and instinctively skipped over and tugged his hoodie. “Jungkookie¬”

Jungkook whipped his head around, so shocked, his eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs. Though he should be used to it by now, his face flushed pink. “Jimin-hyung! Don’t scare me like that. Can’t you just greet me normally for once?”

“I can’t help it, you’re so cute that I just want to tease you all the time.”

Taehyung sighed, pulling him off of Jungkook by grabbing a fistful of his blazer. “Sorry about this pervert.”

Jungkook glanced at Taehyung, then seemingly had a hard time tearing his eyes away. The back of his neck was deep crimson as he murmured weakly, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Stop blushing, it just makes me want to squish your cheeks, my cute maknae!” Jimin cooed, reaching out his hands to pinch him.

Normally, Jungkook would slap his hands away, but he was surprisingly docile as he whined, his cheeks kneaded around by Jimin. “Stop it, I’m not a baby.”

Jimin’s heart fluttered a little, but he ignored it. “Hey, we’re going out to karaoke tonight, want to come with? Us Busan boys should stick together.”

“I’m from Daegu, though--”

Jimin shot Taehyung a pointed glare. “Let’s not mind the small details, shall we?”

“Will it be just us three or are you bringing along anyone else?” Jungkook asked. He couldn’t keep the nervous tremor out of his voice. Though he had become fairly outgoing and loud around Jimin, he still had a hard time around new people. Thank goodness Jimin was as shameless as he was, waltzing along to introduce himself to a junior way back then, since it was the only reason they were even friends now.

Taehyung smirked. “Jimin, want to bring along your girlfriend?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” Jimin groaned. “We just split up.”

“Then we can go pick up some new chicks, eh?” Taehyung grinned, elbowing him. Jimin scoffed. He had been friends with Tae long enough to know he respected women too much to actually pick them up at bars unwarranted. Taehyung was far too nice and traditional, not that that was a bad thing.

Jungkook shifted his weight uncomfortably. Whenever Jimin and Tae talked about girls, he would stay quiet. Jimin just chalked it up to him never having a girlfriend, and didn’t mind it much. He was just their poor, innocent dongsaeng, after all.

“Don’t be shy, it’ll be like a date!” Jimin said, slinging an arm around him and ruffling his hair.

Taehyung snickered. “Except you’d have to date both of us, of course. We’re a package deal.”

Jimin ignored the way Jungkook seemed caught off-guard when Taehyung said it.

“You’re coming, right? You can’t say no, or I’ll bully you by shouting your name whenever I pass by your classroom.”

Jungkook groaned, pushing him off. “Whatever. Just bring along your heels, or you won’t be able to reach the mic later.”

Jimin gasped mockingly. “Excuse me? Do you want to die, Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook laughed, that same clear, bubbly giggle that Jimin loved so much. His whole face lit up when he smiled, and maybe that was why Jimin loved making him happy. It was satisfying to see his face all scrunched up and happy.

Jimin was careful to make sure he always had time to bother Jungkook, whether it be during break time or during extra classes. His favourite not-so-alone time with Jungkook was during their extra lessons, since they usually just kept to themselves. Taehyung was part of the minority that didn’t sign up for dance classes, instead choosing to busy himself with a part-time job to ease his family's financial burden.

It didn’t matter, though. He did miss dancing with Taehyung, but Jungkook wasn’t such a bad partner to have. They always danced together, despite having completely different styles. Jimin found it fun to finally have someone who was willing to tackle those hard choreographies he always wanted to try, but needed a partner to do so.

Jungkook seemed like a completely different person when dancing. Well, he still smiled and laughed, being the eternally cute boy that he was, but when he got serious, his eyes would go all dark and narrow into a piercing gaze. With his jaw set and hair damp with sweat, he was certainly attention-grabbing.

His dancing was no joke, either. In contrast to Jimin’s fluid style, he was rough and sharp with his movements. He had an air of confidence when dancing, completely unlike his shy, timid self. It was as if he was born to dance; his body absorbing the rhythm of the song, his feet swift and smooth as he leapt and turned. It was hard to believe he had only taken dance as a hobby prior to entering the school.

No matter how many times he watched Jungkook dance, he would always be left in awe. There was just something about him that made Jimin feel drawn to him.

Another advantage he had from becoming friends with Jeon Jungkook was that they ate together during their midday break. He would make him lunch (poor boy always ate ramen, but why does he always eat three at a time?), feed him with his chopsticks, and give him wet wipes.

“I’m not a baby,” Jungkook would remind him, every day.

“You’re a growing boy! You can’t just keep eating ramen, it’s not healthy!” Jimin scolded, shoving another fried squid into his mouth.

“I’m telling you, it’s okay! There’s vegetable bits in the MSG and I eat carrots in class-“ he retorted, waving his chocolate milk furiously. Jimin eyed it warily, hoping it wouldn’t spill like it did last time.

“A home-cooked meal is always the best. Don’t argue with me, let me spoil you.”

“I can take care of myself.” Jungkook huffed, but he still opened his mouth to be fed by Jimin anyway.

“You’ve got something there.” Taehyung said, leaning over. He swiped a thumb over Jungkook’s lips, and licked his thumb clean.

Jimin gaped at him. Never did he think he would get to see the infamous k-drama move in real life. Granted, Tae did that with everyone. He had fallen victim to Taehyung’s dangerously narrowed eyes and sinful tongue more times than he could count.

Jungkook seemed to shut down in his seat, red to the tip of his hair. He ducked his head, tugging on his fringe to hide his face. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice, nor care.

But Jimin did.

Weirdly enough, a strange heat was spreading across his chest. His eyebrows furrowed by themselves as he shovelled more rice into his mouth, wondering why he was so affected by the way Jungkook’s cute eyes looked at his friend and the way he audibly gulped when he was touched by Taehyung.

“Jimin-hyung, which choreography are we doing today?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your Taehyungie-hyung?” He snapped.

He pretended not to notice the look of pure confusion that flashed across Jungkook’s face.

Taehyung, forever not knowing how to read the mood, slung an arm around him and pulled him close. “Don’t be like that, Jimin-ah! Just say you were jealous I don’t baby you anymore.” He snuggled close, hand on Jimin’s cheeks.

Jimin slapped his hand away.

He registered what he had done a second too late. He froze, eyes nervously searching Taehyung’s. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but he felt his heart drop when their eyes met.

Taehyung couldn’t hide his hurt quick enough before Jimin saw it. Though it was just for a second, white hot pain pierced Jimin through his heart.

His seat clattered against the gym floor. Jimin bent down and quickly gathered his things. He couldn’t bear to stay in the room much longer, not with his two best friends staring at him like he was a complete stranger. “Sorry,” He mumbled, swinging the heavy doors open. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

Jimin didn’t show up to practice that day. Nor did he the next. Nor the day after the next. It was reckless behaviour for someone who had never missed a day of school, but he couldn’t bring himself to see the betrayal painted all over their faces. Sure, he was short-tempered, but never had he physically pushed Taehyung away before.

It was hard, trying to distance himself from Taehyung and Jungkook, especially because they were in a boarding school. That was equivalent to being trapped in a cage with them. In the end, he gave up and just pretended to be sick instead.

“This isn’t like you.” Namjoon stated exasperatedly. Somehow, he managed to sound stern even through the crackle of the phone. “You’re skipping class; you’re skipping dance; you’re sulking around in your bedroom. You never fight with Taehyung for this long, or this bad.”

Jimin’s thumb quickly swiped away the notification saying he got a message from Taehyung. _‘Hey, are you eating well? Your teacher told me you were sick, hope you’re fine. Please rest well—‘ _It made him sick to the stomach that Taehyung was still so concerned about him despite the fact Jimin was actively ignoring him.

“I know,” Jimin groaned, his fingers scrunching up his hair. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know why I got so angry. I don’t know how to say sorry over something I don’t really get myself.”

The only reason why the two of them were so close despite the fact Namjoon was literally halfway across the world in Washington was due to the fact they had to put up with each other for two years when Namjoon became student council president, and Jimin, a member. Needless to say, people just bond after pulling countless of all-nighters to finish school documents together.

Namjoon was slurping up his spaghetti as he nodded, the book he was most likely reading before Jimin called neatly placed next to him. “Why are you calling me so early? Isn’t it like, 1 am in Korea?”

Jimin sighed, slumping back onto his bed. “3 am.” He corrected. He gave a silent thanks to God for being a council member and having private room privileges. “I’m just… I don’t know. I feel like I should just talk to them because I miss them. But for some reason I don’t want to see Taehyung.”

“You’re lucky you guys switched classes this year, otherwise you can’t avoid him.” Namjoon snorted. “And whoever this Jungkook guy is, aren’t you glad our school has different blocks for different years?”

“Hyung, help me out here. Don’t just eat your spaghetti!”

“What do you want me to say? It’s not like you haven’t figured out the solution yourself. You said you need to talk to them. So? Just talk, then.”

“I should’ve known there’s no use consulting you.”

“You’re saying that as if you were gonna follow my advice otherwise.”

“…You’re right, but you shouldn’t say it.”

Namjoon leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t get you. You’re telling me you meet this one guy who throws you off so much that you can’t even stand Taehyungie touching him? You hate his guts that much?”

“What? I don’t hate him!” Jimin sat up in his bed so quickly, he almost sprained his back. He frowned at his hyung. Perhaps he had finally gone crazy after all that wedding planning on top of his research paper.

Namjoon stared back at him through the phone screen, equally as confused. “You _don’t_? You sure made it sound like it, complaining about him always teasing you and pretending to be oh-so-perfect with his dimples--”

“I never said that!”

“You literally ranted about his stupid smile and stupid laugh and stupid eyes for half an hour. If you’re just going to deny it afterwards, don’t bother coming to talk to me.”

“I wouldn’t hang out with him if I hated him.” Jimin said, rolling his eyes. He wondered if Namjoon was even listening to him. He wouldn’t ask for advice on how to _make up_ with someone he hated.

“Then why are you acting like this?” Namjoon leaned forward. “You’re being weird.”

“I know I am. I don’t get it either, that’s why I came to _you_.”

Namjoon was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Then, he crossed his arms, humming. “I sort of have an idea of what’s going on with you, but I don’t know if you’ll take it.”

Jimin straightened up, eager. Anything that can solve his predicament sounded good. Even if he hated Namjoon’s stupid advices sometimes -- buy a bonsai tree and watch it grow; as if staring at a fucking _plant_ could calm him down—he had to admit that Namjoon was good at figuring out problems (though not at solving them). “Why, what is it? Just tell me. No use for all this suspense!”

“You know, did you consider that maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Instead of hating him,” The corner of Namjoon’s lips twitched. “Maybe you have a crush on him.”

Jimin laughed so hard, he almost dropped his phone. “What are you talking about? I’m the straightest man you’ve ever met. I love _girls_. I literally just had a girlfriend like, two weeks ago.”

“This is like, what? Your fifth relationship this year?” Namjoon shrugged. “Hey, I don’t know, man. My point is, you sound pretty gay talking about this Jungkook guy like that.”

“Look, just because you and Jin-hyung are engaged now, doesn’t mean that every male friendship can turn into romance.”

“I know that. I’m just saying, give it a thought. It could be the reason why, it could be just a random theory. You figure it out.”

Jimin sighed. “Thanks, anyway. I guess I’ll go to bed now.”

“Yeah, say hi to Taehyungie for me. It’s no fun seeing my friends fight.”

Though he said okay, he wondered if he could even face his friend tomorrow morning.


	2. platonic: 75%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't touched this story in such a long time, and I contemplated just deleting it altogether and pretending it never existed, but I fell in love with this idea again, so I'll work on finishing it now that I have free time after finishing a series of mine :) hope you guys still like it lol

Jimin poked his head around the corner, biting his lip nervously. He twirled the parasol in his hands out of habit, nervously flipping the handle around in his palm. Taehyung was at their usual break time spot at the basketball court, lying on his back with his earphones in. He had an arm over his eyes, his chest rising softly every so often.

Should he go wake him up, or…?

He wasn’t used to being the one to apologize—he felt kind of pathetic. He took a deep breath. Even if he was being needlessly stubborn over something so small, he knew that he would hate himself if he let this fight drag out any longer. After all, summer break was coming up and he’d like to be able to text his best friend weird, obscure memes whenever he wanted. He even woke up early to prepare a large meal as an apology.

“Jimin-hyung?”

Jimin jumped in his spot, whirling around so fast he almost cricked his neck. “Jungkook?” He sputtered.

Jungkook tilted his head. “You seem quite energetic for someone who’s been sick for three days.”

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I had my rest.”

"We were worried sick, Taehyungie-hyung, especially! He was fussing about how you’ve never missed a day of school before." Jungkook slung an arm around Jimin, craning his neck to raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re fine now, right? You need to go to the hospital or anything?”

Seeing his concerned expression made prickles of embarrassment go through his entire being for faking his sickness. Jungkook rarely expressed his emotions and affection verbally, and it made Jimin almost tear up at the thought of him being worried for Jimin. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than you think, Jungkook-ssi.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Has Taehyung been acting…differently?” Jimin asked timidly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out the answer to that, but guilt was chewing him up. Taehyung had always been very sensitive to his shifts in emotion, so he constantly took extra care to keep his short temper in check. Snapping at his own friend was a low blow.

“Hm… I guess? He didn’t want to eat lunch at all these two days.” Jungkook frowned. “I asked if he wanted to talk it out, but he said he was fine and just slept.”

Jimin paced around their small, secluded corner, desperately trying to think of a good way to naturally slide his apology into a conversation. Even if they had fought, the thought of Taehyung torturing his own body made his heart twist.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jungkook said, annoyed. “Why are you hiding back here? Let’s go to hyung.”

Jimin let out a deep sigh. He was right. There was no use trying to circle around the issue. But mainly, there was no use resisting Jungkook’s death grip on his wrist as he dragged him over to Taehyung.

Jimin gulped, staring down at his friend’s sleeping face. What was he doing out in the sun when there was an empty spot in a shadier area literally a few feet away? After years of being his friend, he knew Taehyung never bothered to put on sunscreen, insisting he was used to working at the fields with zero protection, anyway. Staying out in the sun didn’t seem like such a good idea when he had no Jimin to force him to slather on SPF.

Carefully, he leaned over Taehyung’s sleeping form and nestled his parasol in between the seats.

Being so close to Tae, his confidence vanished out of nowhere. He scrambled to his feet, clearing his throat. “You know what, this isn’t such a good idea, after all—”

Jungkook caught him by the shoulder, scowling. “No, you have to—”

“Jimin?”

He cursed. Taehyung sat up in his seat, sluggishly wiping the sleep away from his eyes. His other hand naturally made its way to Jimin’s wrist.

“Good morning,” Jimin gave him a weak grin. There was no avoiding this any longer.

Before he knew it, he was engulfed in a hug; Taehyung’s fluffy hair getting all up in his face. “Oh, thank God you’re okay! I was getting scared when they won’t let me see you, and your door was locked all the time—”

Jimin closed his eyes, melting into his warm embrace. He missed his friend, and he hated every second he stretched out his pettiness. He almost couldn’t bring himself to speak, scared that he would ruin the moment they were having. “Taehyung-ah, I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Were you?” Taehyung pouted when he pulled back, but his arms were still around Jimin’s waist.

“I kinda was. Look, I was overwhelmed and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair at all.” He felt a sharp tug in his heart. “I had a talk with Namjoon-hyung a few days ago, and it just made me realise how dumb I was being. I just… I’m sorry. I don’t want our friendship to fall apart over something dumb.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled gently. “Everyone has their bad days.”

Jungkook shifted awkwardly to the side, trying his best to give them some privacy. His lunchbox was smaller than usual, and Jimin wondered if he had only been eating instant noodles the past three days he wasn’t around.

“Jungkook-ah, what’re you doing just standing there? Come here.” Taehyung laughed softly, beckoning him over with a hand.

He thought his heart might churn again, seeing Jungkook fumble over his own feet to join them. He dreaded feeling the ugly jealousy once more, but he felt light, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He smiled, patting the maknae’s head.

“How come you guys look even more sick than me?” He giggled. “Did you guys not sleep at all?”

“Of course I can’t sleep if I keep worrying about you,” Taehyung whined, pulling Jimin to sit between his legs. “Come closer, you’ll burn under the sun.”

“But you’re the one not wearing sunscreen!”

“Oh, who cares? You’re the one with the pretty skin that needs protecting.” Taehyung hummed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Jimin shrugged him off, shoving the container of food into his hands instead. “Here, I made this for lunch.”

“Jimin-ah, you’re the best.” Taehyung cooed, quickly unpacking the plastic boxes. He pulled out some wooden chopsticks he somehow always had in his pockets and handed them out.

“And this is for you,” Jimin said, offering Jungkook’s portion to him. Jungkook stared at the meat piled on top of his fried rice, his gaze flitting over to Jimin’s bowl. “What’s wrong? You want more?” Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded shyly, sliding his bowl back to Jimin.

“You’re not worried you’re gonna lose your abs?” Taehyung joked, poking him in the stomach.

Jimin gasped, elbowing him. “He’s a growing boy! Let him eat.”

“It’s okay, I’ll exercise it off.” Jungkook said cheekily through a mouthful of food. “Also, these onions are chopped kinda weird.”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, don’t judge the chef!”

Jungkook looked up from his meal, his cheeks full and smiling. “Hyung, I really missed you.”

Jimin stared at him, but Jungkook had quickly looked away. He couldn’t help but smile himself. “If you miss me so much, wanna work out together tomorrow morning? It’s a Saturday.”

“You guys have fun, because I am not getting up early just to sweat.” Taehyung snorted, raising his hands up.

“Sure.” Jungkook’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll show Jimin-hyung who has the _real _muscles here.”

Perhaps it was karma for being a jerk to his friends, but Jimin found himself cursing under his breath as Jungkook read out the out of notice sign tacked onto the gymnasium door.

“Maintenance work, bla bla, reopens after summer break…”

He groaned, slumping to the floor. “Are you kidding me? Just when I’m finally motivated?”

Of course, he was only motivated to lose weight, and not because he was finally going to see Jungkook’s muscles being sculpted right in front of his very own eyes. There was absolutely no way he was planning on watching Jungkook’s biceps bulge as he lifted weights, _god no_. Jimin had a pure heart and a pure mind, through and through.

Jungkook was busy tapping away on his phone. “Hyung, wanna go to my gym instead? It’s open on Saturdays.”

Upon hearing this, he scrambled to his feet. “What do you mean, your gym? You don’t use our school’s?” Jimin had never realised that not once had he ever seen Jungkook in the gym whenever he swung around. He had simply chalked it up to having different schedules as a senior.

“I don’t like working out here,” Jungkook said, blushing. “There’s a lot of people around. Y’know, practising and stuff. And the equipments are out in the open.”

“Is that why you always shower so late at night?”

“You knew?”

“Uh,” Jimin looked away. “Nah, I can see you because you have to pass by my room to go to the showers. A-Anyway, is the gym far?”

Jungkook seemed relieved to change the subject, even more so than Jimin. “It’s about ten minutes by foot. Are you okay with that?”

“We’ve danced routines longer than that.” Jimin snorted.

When they arrived, Jimin was stunned that the gym seemed fairly professional. The windows gleamed and the walls shone pure white, and he was hit by a blast of cool air when the door swung open. “Do I need a membership?” He asked anxiously. “I didn’t bring any money with me.”

“It’s okay, they offer a five day free trial.” To his surprise, Jungkook sauntered in, nodding a hello at the man at the front desk. “Hi, sir, this guy’s new here. He can come in, right?”

The man gave him a once-over, sliding a book across the counter-top. “Yes, just sign your name here. Feel free to try out our classes anytime, sir.”

Even with the gym being mostly empty, Jimin felt an odd sense of restlessness. Or maybe the fact that Jungkook was wearing shorts and a tight top was affecting him a lot more than he realised. The boy seemed a lot leaner without his ill-fitting uniform, not that Jimin was always checking him out, or anything.

“Help me warm up and stretch.” Jungkook said, rolling up his sleeves.

Jimin gulped at how casually he offered to let Jimin touch his body— _read_, help him prep. Jimin sunk to his knees, planting his palms against his muscular back. He had to remind himself to have some self-control, otherwise he might not make it through the day.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s tone sounded impatient. “Push me already.”

Jimin snapped back to the present, hastily applying pressure. “Sorry, I’m just more used to helping Taehyung stretch. He’s a lot less experienced, so I’m the one usually in control.”

“Oh?” Jimin dreaded the challenging tone in his voice. “How about you show me how you help Taehyungie-hyung stretch?”

Jimin knew he was kidding and just liked teasing him, but he wasn’t one to back down, either. He smirked, pressing himself flat against Jungkook’s back. He planted his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, his hands reaching down to pull his right leg closer. “You sure? I’m not that gentle.”

Perhaps he took it too far, because after a few seconds, Jungkook dipped his head low, his ears turning red. “Ah, hyung…” He moaned breathlessly.

Jimin froze. He wondered if Jungkook could hear how much his heart was acting up.

“L-let go already, it’s been fifteen seconds.” Jungkook gasped, letting his head fall back against Jimin’s chest.

Jimin let go. It might have been the blood rushing to his head, but he found himself saying, “Taehyung helps me stretch, so you have to help me, too.” He carefully studied Jungkook’s face, lying back on the yoga mat with his arms by his sides.

Jungkook hesitated, but scooted closer. “What does hyung do when helping you?”

Jimin’s hand crept to Jungkook’s, tugging him closer until he was between his legs. “He holds me down by the thighs, and I do sit-ups.”

Jungkook turned beet red, his hands gingerly clutching Jimin’s thighs. Jimin went dizzy with the tingling sensation snaking around him, but he kept his face straight, enjoying the flustered look on his dongsaeng’s face. “A-are you sure about this? This looks sort of weird, I’ve never seen—”

Jimin hauled himself up, sneakily pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s cheek. He poked his tongue out, giggling. “If you keep talking, I’ll keep the kisses coming.”

Jungkook seemed stunned, but quickly regained his composure. “Hey, who do you think you’re talking to here?” He laughed, tightening his grip.

Jimin sucked in a harsh breath at the sudden piercing, pleasurable pain shooting through his thigh, but he couldn’t snap them shut with Jungkook spreading them apart. “H-hey, that hurts!” He whined, his voice wavering.

“Oh, come on, just nine more sit ups, you big baby.”

Jungkook seemed oblivious to the panic he was experiencing. Jimin shut his eyelids, forcing himself to ignore Jungkook’s presence.

Somehow, when he was done, Jungkook’s face was redder than his.

“What should we do next…?” He asked. Jungkook whipped his head around, avoiding him. Jimin raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you?”

Jungkook scowled, his eyebrows furrowed and face flushed, his hands still pressed on Jimin’s thighs. “You say Taehyung-hyung always does this with you?”

Even though the simple warm-up came nowhere close to his usual routine, Jimin found himself drained, lying limp on the floor. He could barely see Jungkook with his arms over his face, but he couldn’t care less. “Yeah?”

If he had come any closer, Jimin might’ve had a heart attack. Jungkook watched him with half-lidded eyes, and Jimin wondered if the boy even knew what he was doing to his body.

“You look a little bit _too _erotic like this.” Jungkook murmured, giving his thighs one last squeeze before getting up.

Jimin laid there, paralyzed, his mind racing. “What the fuck?” He hissed to himself.

Other than the weird moment the both of them refused to acknowledge, they moved on to their workout regiment without much hassle. Jimin enjoyed his free view of Jungkook doing pull-ups as he did squats with weights, sending him a wink and funny faces whenever they made eye contact. He loved seeing Jungkook laugh, biting down onto his lips to keep himself in check.

But Jimin should’ve known it was impossible for him to be the only one to take notice of Jungkook’s cuteness. One of the trainers who had lingered around them made his way to Jungkook, his hands on his hips and an approving grin on his face.

From his spot, Jimin could barely make out the words they were saying, but Jungkook seemed excited, nodding and letting the guy correct his posture. Jimin narrowed his eyes, the trainer’s hands resting on the small of Jungkook’s back— or more correctly, Jimin’s hands’ favourite spot.

“You come here often?”

Jungkook blinked. “Oh, I don’t usually do Saturdays. It’s my cheat day.”

“So why are you here today, then? Special occasion?” Maybe it was Jimin’s imagination, but the guy seemed to position himself carefully to ensure every inch of his oiled body was fully-flexed.

“Nah, I kinda had a bit too much meat to eat yesterday. I need to work it off.”

“You seem plenty fit to me.” The guy purred, a hand reaching up to caress Jungkook’s biceps.

Jungkook let out a laugh. “What are you talking about? You’re more ripped than me! I want a body like yours.”

“Like mine, hm?” The guy slid a piece of paper into Jungkook’s pocket. Jimin nearly dropped the weight onto his foot. “Come ask for me, then. Maybe I can be your personal trainer; I’ll make time for you.”

Jimin stormed off afterwards, grabbing his bag and walking faster than Jungkook. Of course, he had enough sense to wait until both of them finished their workout, but Jimin liked to keep things dramatic in his own mind.

“Hyung? Why are you so mad?” Jungkook called out, rushing to catch up to him, which didn’t take much effort considering his legs were longer than Jimin’s.

“Nothing.” He huffed, turning away.

“Wh- You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?” He said, grabbing Jimin’s arm. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“That guy!” Jimin snapped. “What do you think you’re doing, letting him flirt with you like that? You’re a minor!”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about? He was just trying to get me to become his client.”

“You really can’t tell he had thing for you?” He crossed his arms, glaring at the younger boy. “His hand was all around your waist, touching you like a pervert!”

“Hyung, you do that to me, too, all the time.”

“Yeah, but we’re _friends_.”

“Are you really going to be this difficult?” Jungkook sighed, running his hand through his hair. He took out the card the man had slipped into his pocket. “See this? I’ll tear it up. Happy now?”

Jimin watched him throw the torn pieces into the trashcan, wary. “Y-You didn’t have to…”

“There it is again!” Jungkook said, roaring in frustration. “Why are you so hot and cold? One moment you’re all over me, and the next you hate my guts!”

Jimin’s lips parted, but he was too shocked by his outburst to speak. Jungkook seemed to realise what he had said a moment later, tearing his eyes away from Jimin and marching off. He had never seen Jungkook lash out before, and it scared him. Desperation clawed its way through him, and he jumped into action, breaking into a sprint.

“Wait! Jungkook-ah, please!”

Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his back trembling. “What is it?”

“I…I’m sorry. We just made up. I don’t want us to fall apart again.” Jimin said quietly.

Jungkook’s nose was red when he turned around to face Jimin. “You won’t do this again?”

“I- do what?”

“Being so protective over me! You can’t control who I hang out with!”

“But he was a creep! I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

“He’s just being helpful, it’s his damn _job_.”

Jimin rubbed his face with his hands, taking a long breath. He knew he was being unreasonable, of course. Even as he spoke, he already knew he was going to regret it later, beating himself up over it, losing sleep when he remembered Jungkook’s pained expression.

He stepped closer. He didn’t know if he had the right words to say, and he wasn’t sure if he would even be able to speak without bursting into tears. Everything about Jungkook threw him off his game, and he didn’t like that.

He reached out, tenderly wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist. He was still a bit sweaty, but Jimin didn’t mind. All that mattered was Jungkook was with him, his hand tangling itself in Jimin’s hair. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He murmured, his lips pressed against Jungkook’s neck. “I’m fussy, I’m an idiot, and I’m clingy as fuck, but I really don’t want to lose you.”

“...I know.”

“Can we just restart? I’ll get that trainer’s contact info again if you want.”

“Nah, fuck that. I think you make a pretty good workout partner.”

And that was how the two of them stayed.

For a little while longer, it was just Jimin and Jungkook, simply existing in one another’s arms— and he wouldn’t change it for the world.


	3. platonic: 50%

“Hyung, you really didn’t have to come.”

Namjoon stared at Jimin, his expression stoic and eyebrows raised— a clear sign of betrayal. He huffed, setting the moving box down onto the pavement with a loud thud.

“Fine. Have fun carrying all your stuff alone, then.”

“W-wait, I didn’t mean it!”

With summer break coming to an end, the students were already moving back into the dorms, Jimin included. He dreaded the long hours of studying that was to come, what with their CSAT coming up soon, but at least he would get to see his friends again.

Namjoon, who was on break himself, had offered to help him, dragging along all their friends to come with. However, as Jimin stared at the broken figurine doll now perched on his night stand, he wondered if he had made a mistake. Thankfully, Hoseok was far more useful, stacking his bags in a neat pile without complaint.

“Why do you even have so many books?” Despite his non-stop whining, Yoongi was obediently carrying the box past him. “I don’t remember needing 3 different versions of English guides when I was a senior.”

“At least it’s just his.” Hoseok paused. “Wait, do we have to come here to help Taehyungie tomorrow, too?”

Taehyung, who had one last shift in his contract for his summer job, was scheduled to move back in the early hours of the next morning. Considering the two of them mostly shared their study books, he had far less luggage to pack, which in return meant it made even less sense for all 6 of them to help him out. “Nah, I think Jungkook and I should be enough.”

“You sure?” Namjoon asked, patting the dust off of his hands on his shorts.

“Namjoon, your flight is literally tomorrow.” Jin said, giving him a stern look. “If anything, you’re the one in need of assistance. If you forget your passport one more time, I swear to God, I’m gonna leave you behind.”

“Oops. Of course, you’re right, babe...”

“And go get the pizza from the car before you forget.”

“Honestly, what would I do without you?” With a hasty kiss to the cheek, Namjoon ran off from sight.

The rest of them returned to sorting through his stuff, pulling out books and clothes and rearranging them into neat categories, courtesy of Hoseok chiding them for their disorganization.

“Yo, whose lipgloss is this?” Hoseok asked, holding up a tube of Fenty Beauty gloss.

Jimin blushed, snatching it away from him. “Mine. It was a gift.”

“Hey, didn’t your ex-girlfriend give you that? The one who always has those cute clips in her hair?”

Jimin wondered how they even remembered her. He didn’t think they kept track of all his flings, much less remember their odd characteristics. Though he supposed he hadn’t really been dating ever since he started his senior year.

“Which one is that?” Yoongi seemed oddly interested, Jimin noted, even going as far as putting down the manga he had been skimming through from Jimin’s collection. “Is it the girl that liked guys with big lips?”

“Oh, her.” Jin mused. “Be careful around people like that, okay? Trust me, they’re a scary make-out partner. Or should I say, _intense_.”

“Ew. I don’t want to hear about how you know that.”

Jimin shoved the lipgloss into his pocket. “Then I guess I should be glad all she wanted to do was doll me up.”

“Shouldn’t you throw that away though?” Namjoon interjected from behind them. Both of his hands were carrying pizza boxes, and for a second, everyone’s eyes focused on the food.

“Why? It was expensive!” Jimin snapped. He rarely had money to spend on luxury items. Getting them for free? He wasn't going to complain about it. 

“Because _Jungkook_? Keeping your ex's gift when you're trying to get with someone—”

Yoongi stood up straighter, forcing himself to look away from the pizza, not wanting to miss out on all the good stuff. “Who? Do I know them?”

Namjoon set the pizzas on Jimin’s desk, leaning against the wooden furniture to give them all a knowing grin. “Just some junior boy Jimin has a crush on. Came to me in all his gay panic—”

“A boy?” Hoseok mega-watt smile nearly blinded Jimin.

“Hyung, you said you’d keep it between us!”

“Welcome to the gang.” Yoongi said, opening up his arms. “And here I always thought you were the only straight one out of all of us.”

Jimin huffed, but let himself be wrapped up in his hyung’s arms. He was getting worked up over nothing, but he felt the need to defend himself. “Who says I’m not straight? Jungkook is just cute, that’s all. And fucking hot when he dances. Or works out. Or when he just stepped out of the shower-”

Everyone stared at him.

He felt heat creeping up his cheeks. “Look, I know how it sounds like. But I swear, it has nothing to do with my sexuality. Just some platonic appreciation. If you see him—”

“Can we?”

His friends looked a little too eager at the prospect of being able to meet the guy that broke down Jimin’s concept of his own sexuality.

“On second thought, _no_.”

Hoseok watched him carefully, scanning his expression. “But like, real talk for a second. Namjoon says you like him. And you say you’re straight. Ever thought you could be bi like Yoongi and Namjoon?”

Jimin shuffled his feet. “…no, I never thought about that.”

“It’s okay, kid.” Yoongi patted his shoulder. “This stuff is confusing. Don’t rush yourself. Sometimes you just have to embrace your own feelings. There’s no need to put a label on it if you don’t want to.”

The others nodded sagely. Of course Yoongi had great advice, as per usual. Jimin chewed on his bottom lip. Perhaps he really should look at this whole situation with a new perspective. Maybe accepting that Jungkook was phenomenally attractive could open up a whole new world for him, even if it sounded different and scary.

And of course, Namjoon wanted to get right back to business and skip all the sappy emotional part. “So, we’re done here, right?”

“God, I wish you had some tact, Namjoon-ah.” Jin elbowed him.

“I think we should be done. You guys really worked hard to help me on a whim.” Jimin laughed and gave them all a hug, ignoring their complaints about the heat and perspiration. “Thank you, hyung. It’s so much faster with help.”

“Don’t _sweat _it,” Jin chortled to himself, and despite how hard he resisted the urge, Jimin ended up laughing along with him. They weren’t really close, given that Jin had graduated before he even enrolled in the school, but he was as charming as everyone made him out to be.

Jimin smiled to himself, seeing the identical engagement rings glinting on Namjoon and Jin’s ring fingers. Well, one of them had gotten particularly more charmed than most, it seemed like.

Namjoon grabbed the boxes of pizza off of Jimin’s desk, giving his fiancé an unimpressed look at the joke. “I’ll go greet the kids.”

The moment he stepped out of Jimin’s room, cheers erupted throughout the dorm, their juniors excitedly greeting the former president of the student council, though Jimin suspected it had more to do with the free food.

He stole a glance at Yoongi. The smirk he was wearing seemed far too devilish for someone gazing at the scene as serene as the one before him.

“Hyung, please don’t scare them.” He begged, pulling onto Yoongi’s sleeves. “Hoseok-hyung, please stop him!”

Hoseok seemed far too amused to actually care. Anyone who had ever attended their school during the ruling days of Min Yoongi, the acting president before Namjoon, knew fully well how strict the rules were back then. He would ruthlessly confiscate phones, reporting anyone who broke the dress code to the disciplinary teacher. He was not well-loved by the general public, to say the least.

“Hi, children.” He announced, wrapping an arm around Namjoon’s shoulder, smiling slyly. “Missed me?”

“S-sir! Why are you—”

Jimin sighed, turning his back to them. The sight of the seniors who had the pleasure of experiencing his iron claw rules shaking; their pride forgotten, was not something he wanted to see on his first day back.

He was sort of glad he had declined to be the president. No matter how great you were, no matter how adored by the students, the position of power created a distance between the president and everyone else; a fact that Namjoon had agonized over back then. There was a fine line between fear and respect, and some couldn’t keep the balance. Jimin didn’t want that kind of pressure on top of all his other responsibilities.

“Wait a minute, how come your hair is dyed?!” He heard someone protest.

“The fuck? You pierced your ears, too!”

“Is that _eyeliner_?”

Yoongi must’ve given them with his signature glare, because everything suddenly went silent.

“I guess Yoongi-hyung really changed up his looks, huh? I just kind of forget.” Hoseok smiled affectionately. “He was cute back then, too, but I guess this kind of transformation would’ve been shocking to anyone who wasn’t us.”

To be honest, Jimin found it ridiculous, too. Who would’ve thought the uptight student council president would pull a 180 the moment he graduated high school? If someone told him Min Yoongi would have blond hair and punk piercings 2 years ago, he wouldn’t have believed them, either.

Furthermore, he was certainly prettier. Jimin noticed some of them giving Yoongi flirtatious looks, something like, _hey, if you punish me now, maybe I’d like it more. _From the looks of it, he wasn’t the only one who had realised_. _Hoseok’s fond look quickly darkened, his fingers slowly curling into a fist.

Jin rolled his eyes at the sight. “I’ll go pick the kids up.”

“_Please _do.” Jimin sighed, bending over to unpack a box filled with bubble-wrapped, smaller boxes, and a shitload of newspapers. An angry Hoseok was not something he could handle by himself.

Not even a second after Jin had walked out, out of the corner of his eyes, Jimin could see small fingers clutching the edges of the door frame— and a round head of hair poked in.

“Hyung?” A small, timid voice called out.

Jimin sprang to his feet, quickly shoving the small box labelled _Kookie’s _under his pillow. “Jungkook!”

He ran forward, engulfing the younger boy in a tight embrace. Jungkook laughed, lifting him up and spinning him around. “I missed you.”

Jimin was no stranger to those words, yet when Jungkook said it, in that soft voice of his, he felt his brain short-circuit. “I-I missed you, too.”

When they pulled apart, Jungkook let out an audible squeak, his eyes looking straight through Jimin. Jimin wondered what the fuck was wrong with him now, until he realised that Jungkook had never seen the famed Jung Hoseok in person; the man, the legend himself, that was framed in their practice room and practically worshipped by the dancers of the school.

Hoseok gave him a weird look, lifting up his sunglasses and reaching out for a handshake. “You must be Jungkook. Jimin told me so much about you.”

Hoseok mouthed the words, _too much_. Jimin shot him a warning glare.

“Oh, really?” Jungkook looked nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, which thankfully resulted in him not noticing the silent argument between Jimin and Hoseok.

“Yeah, Jimin said you’re a really good dancer. That’s actually why I’m here today.” Upon seeing all the colour drain from his face, Hoseok snorted. “Relax, I’m just kidding. I’m not gonna test you out of nowhere. I’m just here to chill and help out our Jiminie.”

“Oh. Haha. That’s… great.”

Jimin cringed. The poor boy was so all-over the place, it was painful to watch.

“Call me anytime you need help, I’m always happy to coach kids like you.” Hoseok grinned, clapping his back. “I love people with a passion.”

Hoseok winked at Jimin, closing the door behind him and through the window, Jimin could see him prancing up to his boyfriend, who had apparently started giving a speech on how corrupt the music industry was. Jungkook gave Jimin a panicked look, then a confused glance at the card that had suddenly appeared in his hands.

“Did that really just happen?”

“Yeah. Want me to punch you so you can make sure you’re awake?”

“Don’t even dare.” Jungkook crossed his arms, staring at the pile of stuff Jimin had in his room. He tended to overpack, but he had never been embarrassed of the fact until Jungkook was judging him before his very own eyes. “You brought a lot of stuff. Did he come here alone?”

“I think you saw the others, too, on your way here. They’re the ones causing a ruckus outside.” Jimin started. He patted the bed beside him, and Jungkook sat down, immediately nuzzling himself into the crook of Jimin’s neck. It was hot and stuffy, but Jimin missed him so much he didn’t care. “Don’t mind them. They’re just excited to be back here.”

“Back here?”

“Yeah, they’re all alumni from here.”

“So you’re saying you know the anti-capitalism guy outside?”

Jimin hummed, tugging on Jungkook’s fingers. He seemed to have lost weight over the summer break, Jimin noted with a frown. “Yeah, he used to be the president before Namjoon-hyung.”

“He’s scary.” Jungkook mumbled, lacing their fingers together.

Jimin raised an eyebrow. The younger of the two was rarely so docile with him, preferring to tease him and pull out sarcastic remarks whenever possible. “You sleepy?”

“Mm, I was gaming all night.”

“Honestly, you really have to take care of yourself—”

The door burst open, and they jumped apart in shock. Namjoon stood at at the door, frozen. He seemed to realise how tense the atmosphere was, shifting his weight uncertainly. “Ah, sorry. Did I interrupt something?”

Jimin wasn’t so bothered, but his heart was thumping. _Why? _They weren’t doing anything weird. They were just cuddling like bros, the way Jimin always did with his hyungs.

He glanced at Jungkook, but Jungkook’s eyes were glued onto Namjoon, his jaw slack.

“Jungkook?”

Namjoon’s eyes widened, the remorse in his tone intensifying. “That’s Jungkook? Oh fuck—”

“Thighs.” Jungkook blurted out.

“H-huh?”

Jimin felt an odd urge to smack him for being so weird out of nowhere, but he just buried his face in his palms. _Of course_. He had forgotten that, like him, Jungkook also had a weird fetish for thighs, and Namjoon’s were in full view, his shorts not leaving much to the imagination.

“Jungkook, snap out of it.” He said, nudging the boy. “He’s taken.”

“Engaged,” Jin corrected, swooping in like a bat, announcing his presence in the room. “Betrothed. Promised. To none other than me, in fact.”

Namjoon blushed, trying to hide himself with the back of his hand. Yet Jimin noticed how the other naturally made its way around Jin’s waist, pulling him close like it was second nature to him. “Stop it, babe. That’s Jungkook.”

Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up in recognition. From behind him, Yoongi peeked over them, standing on his tip-toes to get a glimpse of the maknae. Jimin felt a sense of dread filling him up.

“H-hi.” Jungkook said simply, raising a hand as a greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” Jin said loudly, giving him finger guns. He gave Jimin a pointed look. “Well, we won’t be here long. I’m sure you kids have _other _things to do than listen to adults talk.”

And just like that, with hurried goodbyes, Jin dragging the others with him, and sloppy kisses to the cheek from Hoseok, the dorm felt so much emptier.

“They seem fun.” Jungkook said, getting up. “Maybe we’ll see each other again, huh?”

“Yeah, you seem to want to see more of Namjoon-hyung, specifically.” Jimin teased, poking him. “In more ways that one.”

“Oh, shut up! I didn’t know he had a fiancé!”

“Yeah, yeah, I believe you. I mean, you can always just look at your own thighs, am I right?”

Jimin didn’t realise his sight had lingered on the delicious curves of Jungkook’s legs for a moment longer than necessary, until the boy became flustered, shoving a pillow in his face. “Pervert.”

“Then, feel free to look at mine instead.” Jimin offered. He was kidding, of course, but Jungkook stiffened in his spot.

If he hadn’t been obsessively engraving Jungkook’s every feature into his memory for the past few months, filing every minute expression into separate folders in his mind (for no reason other than because he was a good, attentive friend, duh) he might have missed the way Jungkook’s eyes betrayed himself and trailed over to Jimin’s thighs. Jungkook subconsciously licked his lips, and Jimin felt a tingle go through him.

_Were they remembering the same thing? _

A minute filled with tension an entire season ago, full of heavy gasps and heated touches on bare skin…

Jungkook tore his eyes away, and just like that, the moment was gone. He cleared his throat. “I have to go.”

“You’re leaving?” Jimin gasped. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah, I still have to unpack my clothes.” Jungkook called out over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“’Kay, see you soon.”

The door closed behind him, and Jimin let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Jungkook hadn’t seen the secret gift Taehyung and him had bought for his birthday, hastily tucked away. He couldn’t contain his smile, imagining how Jungkook would react once he saw his gift.

But when the day finally came, it started off with the worst rookie mistake he had ever made in his entire career of being the designated cake-provider in every social circle.

“Jimin.”

“What?” He asked absent-mindedly, making sure the strawberries were perfectly balanced on top of the icing with a plastic knife.

Taehyung stood there in silent panic; his hands holding up two gloriously wrong numbers.

“Did you buy the wrong candles?” He hissed, glaring at Tae. He handed the knife over to Taehyung, grabbing the glittery candles from his hands. “Why does it say 12? He’s 16! How did you even mess that up?”

“Uh,” Tae scrunched up his face, the ribbons tied to the plastic knife in his hands shaking. Jimin bit his tongue. Taehyung had been busy with work and catching up on his studies, he was probably mentally exhausted even as they spoke. “How about we just… melt a bit of the wax and shape the 2 into a 6?”

“Nevermind.” He mumbled, setting aside the candles. They were running out of time. They wanted to surprise him at 12:00 a.m exactly, and there was only five minutes left until then. He handed the piping bag to Taehyung. “Here, you write the numbers or something, he likes your handwriting— and I think I have one of those sparkler type candles around here somewhere…”

“Aren’t those not allowed in school?” Taehyung asked, eyes focused on the wobbly numbers written in purple icing.

“I mean, nobody has to know, Taehyung-ah.” He smirked, planting three of it in the chocolate cake.

“I really love your rebellious side, you know that, right?”

"Of course I do. That's why I do it."

"Okay, you flirt. At least feed me some strawberries first."

Jimin couldn't help but smile, pressing a chocolate covered strawberry to Tae's lips. Taehyung's boxy grin made him feel all warm and fluffy. He was glad they decided to throw Jungkook a small birthday party, and got to have some alone time with just them hanging out together. "Should I pull out some whiskey, too?"

"That's enough teasing, you cheeky brat. Save it for our golden maknae." Taehyung said through a mouthful of strawberries. "We have to go."

Jimin went to fetch his tote bag, gesturing to Taehyung to carry the plates and drop the forks, mumbling about how Jungkook would just use chopsticks anyway. “Wait. You _did _remember to tell his roommate we’re coming right?”

“Yeah. For some reason he was a bit too excited about the whole thing. Said he’d just crash at a friend’s room instead.”

“Why? What did you do to him?” Jimin asked in amusement, carefully lifting the cake up from the counter. He reminded himself to thank the cafeteria staff for lending him the kitchen later.

“I may or may not have cornered him against the wall. People seem oddly nice to me when I do that. I didn’t think I was that scary.”

Jimin was certain it had nothing to do with how intimidatingly scary he was, and more to do with how intimidatingly handsome Kim Taehyung was. He simply said, "You're secretly a big bully, Taehyung-ssi," and tugged him by his shirt and dragged them both out of the cafeteria.

They giggled to themselves as they crept up to Jungkook’s dorm room, and the moment the clock hit twelve, they threw the door open and Taehyung’s hands quickly reached in to find the light switch and switched it off.

Jungkook squeaked in surprise, whirling around in his desk chair, his arms immediately raised in a defensive position. “What the fuc—”

“Happy birthday!” They shouted in unison, Taehyung throwing makeshift confetti all over a stunned Jungkook.

Jungkook stared at them in disbelief, blinking every so often because of the bright sparkles. Or was he crying? “Is this for me?”

“Who else’s birthday is today, idiot?”

Jungkook sniffled, trying to hide his tears behind his sleeves. Jimin laughed, handing off the cake to Taehyung so he could pull his arms away from his pretty eyes. He wiped the tears away, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks together. “Don’t cry, Jungkook-ah! Make a wish.”

Jungkook let out a breathy laugh, turning in his chair to face Taehyung and the cake. He closed his eyes, mumbling under his breath. Before he could finish saying whatever he was wishing for, the sparkles went out. “Oh.” He said quietly.

“Well, you weren’t meant to blow it out, anyway.” Taehyung said, turning on the lights and shoving the handle of the knife into his hands. “They only last for a short while. Think of it like a shooting star?”

“Speaking of shooting stars,” Jimin pulled out the present he had hidden from Jungkook from his tote bag. “I hope you wished for this, because we spent a long time saving up for it.”

“A camera?!” Jungkook gasped, excitement lighting up his entire face.

Taehyung and Jimin nodded at one another. They had made the right choice, then. Jungkook had been taking pictures with his phone whenever they went out on the weekends, wistfully glancing at the foreigners they passed by with cameras hanging from their necks.

“It’s nothing much,” Taehyung shrugged sheepishly. “It’s not the best in the market—”

“That doesn’t matter. I can still take pretty pictures with this.” Jungkook said in awe as he turned the camera around in his hands. He chuckled wetly, holding it close to his chest. “Thank you. I really do love you guys.”

“We love you, too, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin murmured, waddling closer and pressing a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Want a kiss from me, too?” Without waiting for his response, Taehyung leaned over the cake, and brushed his lips against Jungkook’s cheek, right where his scar was.

Jungkook jerked away, clasping his hand over the area. The lip balm that Tae had been wearing glistened on his cheek. “H-hyung!”

Taehyung laughed his head off at his reaction, but Jimin found himself unable to join in. Why did he react like that when Taehyung did it to him, but he didn’t even say anything when Jimin kissed him?

He tried to shake off his nasty thoughts. What did it matter? They were all friends. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. He couldn’t keep letting his insecurities and emotions get the best of him. He put on a smile, just soaking in the sincerity of the moment. He was with the people he loved; the people he would do anything for. Being with them was enough.

“This cake is so good!” Jungkook gasped, shovelling his piece into his mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you made it this big?” Taehyung chuckled, handing Jimin his own plate. “I’m happy to see our baby eating so well.”

“You made this?” Jungkook’s mouth dropped open, the frosting still smeared on his lips. “Hyung, marry me, please.”

Taehyung gave him a light slap on the shoulder. “Hey! Compliment me, too! I wrote the numbers!”

“...those were numbers?”

“I can’t believe the amount of disrespect-” Taehyung choked back a fake sob, throwing his arms around Jimin dramatically. “Help me, sir, he’s bullying me!”

“Don’t listen to him, hyung!”

Jimin felt his smile returning, this time for real.

_Yep, this was definitely enough._


	4. platonic: 30%

Jimin woke up one Saturday morning with a particularly bad headache, his hands already scrambling to answer his phone.

“Yes?” He asked gruffly.

“Good morning.” There was a pause. “By the way, this is Jungkook.”

Jimin blinked. Groggily, he lowered his phone to look at the caller ID. Jungkook’s picture greeted him; a photo taken from the time Jimin was caught taking sneak shots of their maknae, his hair all messed up and a sleepy smile on his face. Seeing it made him about a spoonful of joy happier, but Jimin was still annoyed at the sudden wake-up call.

“Well? What do you want? You’d better have a good reason for waking me up.” He grumbled, sliding off of his bed. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. He might as well start studying after Jungkook was done with whatever he needed to say.

“Hyung, the instructor is looking for you and he does not look happy.” Jungkook whispered, his voice crackling through the speaker. “You’re late, practice started 20 minutes ago!”

He had barely gotten any sleep, and now he had Taekwondo practice at 7 a.m? Jimin groaned, rubbing his face. “I thought I told him I wasn’t going to come in today.”

“Yeah, he said he forgot and screwed up the scheduling, so one of the assistant instructors isn’t here.”

“Can’t you fill in for me instead? You have a red-black belt.”

“You know they’re not gonna listen to a junior…”

Jimin tried to push down the wave of nausea that was coming over him. Jungkook was right. Jimin knew he absolutely sucked at teaching because he was far too shy for his own good.

“You still there? Did you fall asleep again?”

“Fine, alright.” Jimin slipped on his shoes, grabbing his gym bag as he walked out and locked his door behind him. He made a run for the bathroom, thankful that it was practically empty. “I’m heading there right now. Just let me wash my face first.”

“Okay, see you soon. And hurry. He’s glaring at me like it’s _my _fault.”

Jimin quickly gargled some mouthwash, and splashed water on himself, shivering from the cold. He focused his sight on the mirror. He looked like shit, with his eyebags looking particularly worse than usual, and his cheeks still swollen from sleep. His migraine made his right eye throb, and it felt worse and worse the more he stood there.

He didn’t feel very stable on his feet, and he wondered how he was even able to jog to the dojang beside their school gym within five minutes.

“Sorry I’m late.” He mumbled, ducking his head to avoid all the curious students gawking at him. He had dropped Taekwondo since the semester started, but he had been helping their instructor whenever he could, since he was one of the few students who had a black belt, but it still felt a bit awkward to look so unprepared in front of the students who always looked up to him. The teacher gave him a nod, and resumed his demonstration.

One kid, however, was not part of the crowd. Jungkook was standing to the side, worrying his bottom lip, a hand on his hips. The moment he spotted Jimin, he yanked him aside. Before he even said anything, he scrunched up his brows. “How come you’re not in uniform? Where’s your dobok?”

Jimin glanced down. Oh. He was in a white t-shirt he must’ve stolen from Jungkook, and some shorts. Jungkook was right. Where the heck was his uniform?

“Yeah, I think I left it.” He felt like doubling over, and tugged on Jungkook’s collar for support. “Can I borrow your spare? We wear the same size, right?”

“You’re wearing my shirt and now you want to wear my uniform, too?” Jungkook glanced at the crowd behind them who were trying to take a peek at Jimin, then at his exposed chest, turning red. Gently, he removed Jimin’s hand from his clothes and shifted slightly, shielding him from view. “Come on, let’s go the changing rooms.”

“Hey! You don’t need to pull me so hard.”

He closed the door behind them and started rummaging through his locker. Jungkook pressed a bundle of white cloth into Jimin’s hands. “Change. Quick. That shirt is too big on you.” He muttered, avoiding Jimin’s eye. “You at least brought your own belt, right?”

Jimin could feel the chill ghosting on his collarbones. It _was _too big. Perhaps that was the reason people gaped at him when he first walked in; he looked like he just woke up from a dick appointment. Hurriedly, he slipped out of his clothes and put on the dobok.

“Jungkook, help me with my belt.”

Jungkook turned back around, eyeing him warily. “What, you don’t know how to? Don’t lie to me, that’s not possible.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda lazy.”

“You treat me like a kid, but you’re the real baby here.” Jungkook huffed, trudging over and grabbing his black belt from his hands, pulling Jimin close by the waist.

Jimin hummed, enjoying the feeling of having his hands pressed against Jungkook’s muscular chest. He felt more light-headed than usual; his words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could even process them. “You want me to treat you like an adult, Jungkook-ssi?”

Jungkook’s hands, which had been fumbling with the cloth, stopped. He gazed up into Jimin’s eyes, his expression unreadable. Jimin held his breath, his line of sight drifting down to Jungkook’s cherry red lips.

“Jimin-ssi.” Jungkook said, his voice low, taking a step forward. Jimin felt himself stumble back into the lockers behind him, the sound of steel ringing throughout the room. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying right now?”

He gripped Jungkook’s arm. He usually initiated physical contact, sure, but being trapped felt different, especially when his heart was racing too fast, his head killing him. He couldn’t focus. The room felt too cold; he had to leave. He wanted nothing more than to pull himself together and start the class already. How slowly was Jungkook tying the damn belt, anyway? “Not really. Hurry up. We’re late.”

When he heard this, Jungkook seemed even more confused. He finished fixing the belt, taking a step back, frowning. “Hey, are you okay? You seem kinda out of it.”

“What, just because I’m not all over you I’m being weird?” Jimin slurred. It was getting harder and harder to speak, his mind clouded.

“Jimin-hyung?” Jungkook’s hand reached up, pushing his fringe back. Jimin let out a small gasp, his cool touch sending shivers down his spine.

“What?” Jimin’s vision was getting blurry. Were there two Jungkooks right now, or was he simply in another one of his dreams?

“Hey, you’re burning up.” His voice was urgent, but it sounded like it was underwater. “Maybe you shouldn’t come in today, I’ll go talk to sabom—”

“Wait,” Jimin grabbed onto the back of his uniform. “Don’t leave me alone—”

“Woah!”

Jungkook caught him before he could fall face-first onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Jimin said breathlessly, well aware of the way his top had ridden up, Jungkook’s arm against his bare skin spreading heat all over him. “Sorry.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Just for a little while,” Jimin said, burying his face in Jungkook’s chest. His softener smelled sweet and powdery, and it was all over both of their uniforms, and he inhaled slowly, getting drunk on the scent. “Hold me.”

Jungkook’s other hand rested on his nape, his fingers playing with his slightly overgrown hair. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It’s going really fast.”

Jimin looked up. “It’s the fever.”

“I know.”Jungkook said. His finger dragged along his stomach, tracing the dip in Jimin’s hips. Jimin let out a choked moan at the sensation. “I know.” He repeated, quieter this time.

He pulled apart as if nothing had happened. Or was Jimin too concious of him?

“Hold up your hands.” Jungkook commanded, and Jimin obliged, letting him pull off his dobok.

“Cold,” He complained, covering himself up with his hands.

“I’ve seen you dance shirtless, hyung, why even bother?” Jungkook grunted, lifting his arms back up. He pulled on the shirt Jimin had came in wearing, aka Jungkook’s own shirt. “There we go.”

“I have some pills in my bag.” Jimin said hoarsely. “Can you get them for me?”

Before he knew it, Jungkook was pressing the tablet against his lips. “You’re not gonna make me force-feed you, are you?”

Jimin stared him in the eye as he slipped the medicine into his mouth, his tongue grazing the ends of Jungkook’s fingertips for a millisecond. Jungkook clenched his jaw, his breath hitching, but silently handed him a bottle of water, watching him as he gulped it down.

“Shouldn’t you go back to practising?” Jimin tilted his head.

“And leave you like this?” Jungkook snorted, hoisting him up bridal style. Jimin squeaked in alarm. “You’re a mess, hyung. I’ll take you back to your room.”

They passed by the instructor, Jungkook offering a hurried explanation, doing his best to not attract the others’ attention.

“I guess he should rest up.” The instructor said, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. “We only have 20 kids here today, I’ll handle it on my own. You take care of him, okay, kid?”

Time passed by like a blur to Jimin. His medication was starting to kick it, and when he opened his eyes, they were already back in the dormitories. Jungkook fumbled for the key in Jimin’s bag, not wanting to put him down. One of his knees were raised, supporting Jimin’s weight.

“It’s in my shorts pocket.” Jimin mumbled.

What with him being pressed against Jungkook’s neck, he could hear the younger boy gulp. His fingers reached down, and he averted his eyes as he slipped his fingers into his pocket.

Jimin flinched hard at the unexpected contact. “That’s not my—”

“Sorry!”

“...you need to look where you’re touching, idiot.”

What Jimin didn’t take into account was how much Jungkook’s gaze, trained onto his crotch area, would affect him. He waited, the atmosphere tense, as Jungkook pulled out the keys.

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Jungkook dropped the keys, and nearly dropped Jimin, too. “H-hyung!”

Taehyung stood there with an amused look, still in his blue striped pyjamas, his toothbrush in hand and a damp towel on his head. “Is Jimin drunk or something? Did you pick him up from the bar?”

“Taehyung-ah,” Jimin rolled his eyes, but the effort alone made him dizzy. “I love you, but please, not now.”

“He’s sick.” Jungkook said. Jimin could feel him getting warmer, obviously still flustered. “Help me open the door.”

“There you go.” Taehyung pulled out his set of keys from his hoodie, and pushed the door open. “You already had some medicine? Were you at practice? …wait, isn’t that Jungkook’s shirt?”

Jungkook answered his questions with one of his own. “Hey, you have his spare key! How come I don’t?”

“Because we’re married, that’s why.” Taehyung answered, pushing past the maknae to fix Jimin’s bed covers.

Jungkook pouted, but slowly set him down on his mattress.

“Feels like our wedding night.” Jimin said.

“Am I hyung’s boyfriend?” Jungkook scoffed, but his smile was wide and pretty, and god, Jungkook was so beautiful...

“Husband.” He giggled.

Taehyung made a gagging sound. “Okay, stop flirting and go back to sleep.”

“I want some soup first.”

“Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean we’ll follow every demand.” Taehyung huffed, pressing their foreheads together to compare their temperature. “But you’re sick, so what kind of soup do you want?”

Jimin leaned into Taehyung, relishing in the sense of comfort he provided. “Mushroom?”

Taehyung gave him a quick kiss on the bridge of his nose. “I should have a can left—”

“Chicken is better when you’re sick.” Jungkook interjected.

“Fine, you go make it then, genius.”

With his friends fussing over him and spoon-feeding him heated up canned broth, Jimin got better in no time. There was something special about waking up to find them asleep on the edge of his bed, their fingers holding onto Jimin’s, snoring softly.

But even as he smiled, he knew this wouldn’t last forever.

The CSAT exam was coming up soon, and things were about to get even more stressful. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by Jungkook, plagued by his worries and doubts about his sexuality and presumed criteria for attraction. Both him and Taehyung needed to give the most important exam of their life their all.

Yet no matter how hard he tried to distance himself from those sort of thoughts, the universe must be working against him, for one stormy autumn night, Jeon Jungkook showed up at his doorstep; shaking from the cold and wrapped in his blanket, his phone in hand.

“Jungkook?” He yelled, quickly pulling him inside. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“My roommate had to go back home suddenly. There was a family emergency.” Jungkook’s teeth were chattering. “You weren’t picking up my calls.”

“Ah, sorry. When I’m studying I turn it off.” Jimin glanced at his phone, which he had thrown onto his pillow. “But why are you here? Do you need to go check on your roommate? Should I get a supervisor—”

Jungkook shook his head frantically. “No! I’m here because I got lonely, that’s all.”

“And here I thought you were in trouble.” Jimin pushed his glasses up, pinching the space between his eyebrows, sighing. He turned up the heater, then grabbed Jungkook by his thick blankets and shoved him onto the bed. “Just go to sleep, brat.”

“Am I a brat, now?” Jungkook grinned, wrapping his arms around Jimin’s neck and tugging him down. “What are you going to do? Give me detention? Maybe a few demerit points?”

Jimin clicked his tongue, turning him over and spanking him. The sound resonated throughout the room, and Jungkook whined into his pillow, squirming. Jimin had to physically restrain himself from doing anything more, reminding him that he needed to hit the books. Nope, Jungkook wasn’t cute at all. No way. He definitely wasn’t tempted to spank him again and hear more of his those needy sounds come out of his mouth—

“Hyung…” Jungkook said, breathless. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating his pretty eyes and flushed cheeks. “Is this the kind of punishment you usually give to naughty kids like me?”

He blinked. Oh god, He was totally being played like a fool. Once again, he had been dancing to Jungkook’s tune. He suppressed a shudder at his suggestive words.

“Be quiet. I need to study.” He muttered, getting up and pulling out his chair.

Jungkook pouted, jerking him back to the bed. “It’s so late already! Just go to sleep with me, Jimin-ah!”

“You’re lucky I’m not that strict about honorifics.” Jimin hissed, going back to his seat. He had a test coming up. With his schedule jam-packed with dancing lessons and spending his evenings stuck at the library tutoring even the kids from the higher-ranked classes, he only had the night time to study on his own. He had to be serious.

“I thought you already have scholarship offers for martial arts, though.” Jungkook huffed, tucking himself under the covers. “Do you really need to study?”

“I still need to have good grades for that.” Jimin answered, fixing his spectacles. Plus, he wasn’t sure if he was even willing to move to China. But nobody knew about that part of the deal except his teachers and family, and he wasn’t about to cause a ruckus by bringing up something that wasn’t determined yet.

It was silent for a long while save for the occasional loud thunder rumbling in the distance, and Jimin wondered if Jungkook had fallen asleep. He tallied up his practice test sample, frowning at the score. He pressed the end of his pen against his chin, biting his lip as he ran through all his translations and notes again. He must’ve used the wrong word, or misunderstood the poet’s intents, or—

“Hyung.”

“What?” He snapped.

Jungkook gave him a crooked smile. “You look cute when you’re studying.”

“I swear to God, if you keep being loud, I’ll kick you out.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Just go to sleep, okay?” He grumbled, flipping another page. He was behind schedule on his studies, and Jungkook’s distracting presence did not reduce his stress level at all. “I’ll finish up this set, then I’ll join you.”

Jungkook seemed satisfied with his answer. “Good. You’re always nagging me about not taking care of myself, but you worry me, too.”

Before Jimin could say anything, he had tucked his head under the blanket. Jimin pursed his lips. Whatever. He shouldn’t let Jungkook deter him from his studies.

_Beep._

Jimin jolted awake. _Shit_. Did he fall asleep?

The clock read 4:00 a.m, and he suddenly realised that he was no longer in his seat, but rather, suspended in the air.

“Wha-”

“Shh, let me take care of you.” Jungkook murmured, pulling him closer before he could fall out of his hold. Jimin’s hand was pressed flat against Jungkook’s chest, and he could feel the steady beating of his heart thrumming underneath his fingers. Jungkook lifted up the covers, pulling it over the both of them. “Go to sleep, hyung.”

Jungkook’s arm slipped under his head, making a comfortable pillow. Jimin found himself snuggling closer to Jungkook, his body fitting perfectly against his muscular frame.

“You smell nice,” He murmured, dipping his head under Jungkook’s chin.

“It’s probably my perfume.”

“You wear perfume at night?” Jimin took a deep breath. “Vanilla. Flowers. It suits you.”

“The smell helps me fall asleep.” Jungkook explained. His shirt was so loose, Jimin could practically see down them from where he was positioned. His abs, the dip in his hips, his v-line…

What kind of temptation had been presented before him?

He gulped, his heartbeat picking up. He was sure Jungkook could feel him tensing up, but the younger boy didn’t seem to notice, or simply did not care, choosing to tangle their legs together instead of saying anything.

Jungkook’s voice was husky and scratchy. He must’ve been asleep when he realised Jimin had dozed off on his desk. “This is comfortable.”

It really was. If Jimin closed his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see all the tantalizing parts of Jungkook. He could still feel every crevice of his toned body against his, though, so did his sense of sight even matter in this situation? He just prayed Jungkook couldn’t tell how his crotch was heating up involuntarily, otherwise that would be awkward.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?” Did Jungkook notice, after all? Jimin tried to calm himself down. His fears seemed irrational yet he wouldn’t put it past his own body to betray him. Or maybe he was merely delirious after crunching. He did manage to finish up to two sets more than he had intended, after all.

“I’ve been meaning to say, I haven’t seen you with a girl in a while. You must be really serious about your studies.” Jungkook said, oddly jittery. “You shouldn’t hold yourself back. You’re very…uh, wired. I don’t want to see you so stressed. You need me to introduce you to anyone? Not that I’m saying you need my help, or anything—”

Jimin laughed. “No, I haven’t dated anyone since I—”

_Since I realised I liked you._

He paused.

What? What on earth did he just think? Was he out of his mind?

“What did you say? Yah, learn to finish your sentences.”

Jimin bit his lip. He almost fucked everything up with a slip of his tongue. “Nothing. Since the last girl. That’s what I meant to say.”

“I thought you were just getting rusty.” Jungkook teased.

Jimin sighed, snuggling closer.

_ Maybe he really was._

For the longest time, silence hung heavy in the room. All Jimin could hear was their rhythmic breathing, and the occasional pitter-patter of the rain against the roof of the building. Then, Jungkook’s voice spoke up, small, scared; uncertain. “Hyung? Are you still awake?”

Jimin stayed quiet. The bastard had the nerve to keep bothering him when he was the one who was insistent on putting him to bed. And he wasn’t about to allow Jungkook to give him a scare; not again. He urged himself to fall asleep, trying to count sheep and alpacas like Jin had told him to.

But Jungkook had more to say.

“If you’re asleep, I can say this, right?” Jungkook’s grip around Jimin’s waist tightened.

Jimin stilled. A bitter taste rose in the back of his throat. _What could it be?_

“I think I like Taehyungie-hyung.”

…now he really regretted not sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly it's fun to try to replicate the tension between jikook that we can see on camera in writing form hhh


	5. platonic: 15%

“Can you repeat that?”

Jimin didn’t bother hiding his eye-roll. For the past week, he had been badgered with constant questions and people asking for last-minute tutoring. Now that it was the morning of the CSAT, the questions were coming in at an all-time high. Being the number one student in every subject, he had expected this, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to be tired of it. He was pretty sure he had recited the entire history book at this point. And one of the people that was exhausting him mentally was none other than Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung had been on-edge the entire morning, accidentally waking up 2 hours before his alarm went off due to his nerves. He had hammered on Jimin’s door non-stop, panicking and asking to borrow his maths notebook.

Jimin leaned over the table, trying his best to stay calm as he repeated his explanation again.

“...so I just have to cross-multiply this?”

“Wha— no! You need to factorise it, then you sub this part in.”

Taehyung blinked. Slowly, understanding dawned upon him and a wide smile bloomed across his face. “What would I do without you, Jimin?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook asked through a mouthful of bread. The younger boy had dragged the two of them out of their dorm, apparently as antsy as they were about the tests and had woken up too early. The cafeteria was filled with seniors desperately running through their notes one last time, making his first-year status very apparent. “Do you not want to get something to eat?”

“I feel sick.” Taehyung muttered, still poring over sample questions they completed together a few days ago. Jimin stared at him as he traced the pencil markings that filled the edges of the paper, trying to not absorb his anxiety. But even as Jimin distracted himself, his mind latched onto another problem that had been haunting him; one by the name of Jeon Jungkook.

The way Jungkook’s eyes dripped with concern, his lips down-turned like a kicked puppy staring at Taehyung— it made his stomach churn.

_ I think I like Taehyungie-hyung._

The words he had whispered, his lips brushing against the top of Jimin’s head, scared and uncertain, so many nights ago.

He clenched his jaw. _No. _Now was not the time to be wallowing over his doomed romance. He had done enough of that since then.

“Jimin, you were saying?” The girl standing behind him cleared her throat. Her nametag, reading Hye-su, glistened on her chest. _Oh, right_. Jimin pinched his forearm, trying to ground himself in the present. He had completely forgotten that he was in the middle of explaining something else before Taehyung interrupted them.

“Okay, so you need to make sure you use this formula first…” Jimin mumbled, holding onto her book and scribbling stuff down. He was getting tired of all the maths questions. Why couldn’t they ask someone from the science department? Even if they weren’t him— and by that he meant, _weren't the best_— they were still better than average, at the very least. “If you don’t, you’ll mess up the rest of your calculations.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” She beamed. Then, she stood there for a moment, batting her eyelashes. “I’ll treat you to lunch?”

Jimin waved a hand dismissively. He pumped up his fists, giving her the most energetic smile he could muster. “Nah, it’s okay. Good luck, you can do it!”

“O-oh, okay.” She failed to hide her disappointed expression. “I’ll see you later then, Jimin-ah.”

Jungkook and Jimin watched the girl walk away, slightly dejected. Jungkook nudged him. “Think she likes you?”

Jimin snorted. “Likes me? That’s my ex. Of course she does. Or did.”

“Mm, I think she likes you still. The way she looked at you was kinda flirty.” 

“What does it matter? We’re through. She’s just a friend now.” Jimin omitted the part where his feelings had grown to the point that he couldn’t imagine being with anyone but Jungkook. He bit his lip; he had gotten too used to the dull aching of his heart.

“Are you done?” Taehyung let out a relieved sigh. He slid his book across the table. “Thought the questions would never end. Can you tell me what this says?”

Jimin squinted at the jumble of smudged letters. “Dude, that’s _your _handwriting.”

“Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I get it.”

“Looks like hanja, doesn’t it?”

Taehyung’s mouth hung open as he turned the book sideways. “Huh. You’re right. Good catch, Jungkook-ah.”

“You’re welcome, but really, hyung, are you seriously not gonna get breakfast?” Jungkook scowled. “You need to eat _something_. I heard people pass out because of stress and an empty stomach.”

“Do you want me to puke all over my papers, Jungkook-ssi?”

“Taehyung-ah, just a bite.” Jimin coaxed, pushing a muffin against his lips. Tae hesitated, but bit down anyway. “You need to calm down. You’ve studied so much for this. If you panic, you’ll forget.”

It was true. Taehyung was really bad at his studies, but he had tried his hardest for the past year. Despite having a part-time job, he’d carry his books around, reading them whenever he could. They’d stay up late reviewing notes, eyes bleary and words slurring together. The fact that they were in different classes didn’t help either, since he wasn’t there to explain things to him. He was worried Taehyung would fall over with how little sleep he was getting.

Thankfully, the old lady that ran the store Taehyung worked at had been very understanding, letting Jimin cover his shift from time to time without him knowing. He made sure Taehyung had all his meals and rest the best he could, but he wondered if it wasn’t enough. The old lady had even begged Taehyung to stop working and focus on studying two weeks before the exams, promising to not cut his pay.

Even with all the extra help, Taehyung seemed down, munching on the snack and staring at the book listlessly.

“How come you listen to Jimin-hyung but not me?” Jungkook whined.

“It’s because you keep distracting me.”

Jungkook slid out of his seat and stood behind him, his fingers kneading into Taehyung’s shoulders. He grunted, putting all his strength into the massage. “Relax! The exams starts in forty-five minutes. You need to be in the best state of mind.”

“Thank you, our cute maknae.” Taehyung smiled wearily, closing his eyes and groaning at his touch.

He wrapped his arms around Taehyung, nuzzling into the crook of his shoulders, and Jimin looked away, burning holes into the English Handbook spread open on the cafeteria table.

Ever since he found out about Jungkook’s little crush, he had resigned himself to heartbreak. He had no chance if Jungkook was already smitten with Taehyung, and they weren’t getting less comfortable with each other anytime soon. Might as well move on quietly, no matter how much his heart hurt. Nowadays, he couldn’t even bring himself to look Jungkook in the eye, even as his feelings grew stronger with each passing day. It was the first time he had ever gone stupid for someone; a _boy_, nonetheless.

He scoffed. He had just come to terms with his feelings, and now he had to squash them. How pathetic was that?

“By the way, I bought you guys some good luck charms.” Jungkook piped up, rummaging through his bag. He held them up sheepishly. “I don’t know if you believe in this sort of thing, but—”

“These are so cute!” Taehyung giggled, taking his from Jungkook’s hands.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” Jimin said, accepting the gift. He smiled down at the little red drawstring bag. “It’s nice to know you keep us in your heart.”

Jungkook looked at him funny.

Whatever he had to say, Taehyung ruined the moment.

“I need to piss.”

“What? Go, hurry!” Jimin frowned, shooing him away. Taehyung shrugged Jungkook’s arm off of him and dashed across the cafeteria, rounding the corner and disappearing into the distance. What a scene-stealer.

Jimin stared at the spot where Taehyung was a moment ago.

“Jimin-ssi.”

Suddenly, the thought of the two of them alone together made him nervous.

“...yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Jungkook sat across him, lacing their fingers together. His skin burned where their hands met. It took all of him not to smack the younger boy away. “I know we’re worried about Taehyung-hyung, but you don’t look good, either. Don’t think I forgot about how you nearly passed out like, a month ago.”

“I appreciate your concern,” He said, painfully aware of how stiff he sounded. “But I’m fine, thanks.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook huffed, impatient. “There’s only 30 more minutes before I see you disappear into the biggest exam of your life. Don’t lie to me.”

Jimin felt a twinge of annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

“I haven’t seen you smile properly once this morning. And you’ve been really restless, plus you’re so pale—”

“Fine, I’m scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Jungkook frowned. “Hyung, you’ll do great.”

“Can you not say that?”

“Why not?”

“It’s because everyone keeps repeating that that I’m stressed!” Jimin swallowed harshly, blinking back his tears. He could feel his throat constricting and it hurt like he swallowed a shot of fireball. He ducked his head. “All this expectation, this sureness that I’ll be the perfect genius? Everyone thinks I’ll get the best scores just like that. What if I don’t, Jungkook? What if I can’t get my scholarship? Money doesn’t come by my family easily. Even my dance tuition now, my teacher is paying for everything. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Jungkook gave him a small smile. “I know you work hard. That’s why I say that.”

“Do you?”

“I do. I’ve seen you teach others even if it’s 1 a.m. in the morning. I’ve seen you memorise stupid facts even during dance practice. I’ve seen you accidentally fall asleep because you don’t know your own limits.” Jungkook’s eyes seemed to pierce through him, steady and unwavering; completely different from the meek boy he met eight months ago. “Fuck talent or that bullshit. You always try your best and push yourself. You’re a fighter. You’re not gonna lose.”

Jimin let out the biggest laugh he had ever had in the past month.

He really was worried over nothing. He could do it. He had worked his ass off for months for this stupid test, and he sure as hell was gonna ace it. All those A+ he had earned, the perfect marks on the mock exams— he was gonna prove once and for all that he deserved every bit of the recognition he had gotten.

"You’re right. I’m gonna nail this shit. I’m Park Jimin.” Jimin said breathlessly. His cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so widely, but he couldn’t care less. This feeling of elation— he could conquer the world. And all it took was simple words of encouragement from the guy he was so whipped for; a guy that didn’t even like him back.

“Woah, being so gutsy with the naughty words, aren’t we, Mr. Student Council Member, sir?” Jungkook said, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up, jerk. At least stay nice for a whole minute.”

Jungkook brought Jimin’s hand to his lips. He could feel Jungkook smile as he spoke. “Okay, hyung. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Before he knew it, they were lining up to enter the academic block, the area filled with families and the younger students, rushing to wish them good luck. Jimin gave his parents a quick hug, and from the look in their eyes, he could tell that they, too, fully trusted him.

Somewhere further up the line, Taehyung’s parents had their eldest trapped in their embrace for a solid minute, repeating over and over again how grateful they were to have a hard-working son, sobbing into his chest and patting his back hard.

His eyes drifted over to Jungkook, who he could easily pick out from any crowd now; but Jungkook wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were glued on Taehyung, worry creasing his features.

Jimin took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to worry over his fucked up love life. The clock read 8:00 a.m, and he gave the crowd of girls (and a handful of boys) that had been hovering around him a gentle smile, turning around and walking without looking back.

As he sat through the most nerve-wracking day of his life, he smiled to himself.

He was Park Jimin, and he was absolutely sure he could do this.

Time went by agonizingly slow, and his back was starting to ache, his fingers cramping up. But he kept his head down, filtering out the sullen sighs from other students around him. As they finished each subjects, break times came and went, students huddling together to discuss answers, or made a quick trip to Jimin to double-check a fact before the next test started.

It was torturous. So painfully drawn-out and difficult. Whose idea was it to have all the subjects tested on the same day? But Jimin, like the other students across the country, knew their future depended on the outcome of these tests. Like it or not, they had to go through with it.

He had thought that once everything was done with, once he had written down the final syllable and handed his paper in, he would feel happy and at ease.

But the moment he stepped out of the door, the watch on his hands reading 5:53 p.m, his confidence shot down to zero as his eyes landed on Jeon Jungkook.

Where had all his energy and sureness gone? He was feeling like he could do just about anything a few minutes ago. Yet now, all he wanted to do was run away.

The boy scanned the crowd, his jittery energy apparent even from far away. His hood was up, and his bangs covered his eyes, but god, he was absolutely adorable.

Jimin steeled himself.

Now there really was no excuse to avoid confronting his feelings. And confronting them he was. He felt overwhelmed by emotions— happiness? Melancholy? Anxiety? He wasn’t sure what they were, but he found himself walking over to him, burning up from the inside.

“How did it go?” Jungkook asked nervously.

“Great.” He mumbled, gripping onto Jungkook’s arm and steering him away from the crowd of test-takers streaming out. “Now, I should just—”

A wave of nausea overcame him, and he found himself stumbling over his own feet, the world spinning out of focus. Okay, maybe it wasn’t his brightest idea to confess to his crush after a whole day of exams, but it was kind of too late to back-pedal out of the situation now.

“I-”

He doubled over, his fists finding their way onto the front of Jungkook’s hoodie, and he watched as the world dimmed, Jungkook’s face disappearing into the void.

“Jimin-hyung?!”

If anyone had told him he would pass out after taking a test, he wouldn’t have believed them a year ago.

But here he was, waking up in the infirmary after dramatically fainting in the arms of the man he liked like a damsel in distress. The cheap pillow he recognized too well felt hard under his head, and he groaned, blinking at the harsh lights hanging overhead. The curtains were drawn fully around him, and all he could hear were hushed whispers of what sounded like his family and friends.

“—got him out of there before anyone saw—”

“The other students would start panicking if Park Jimin out of all people did—”

“—walked and collapsed—”

“It’s my fault.”

Jimin strained his ears. He felt too weak to move and his brain couldn’t process information as fast as he’d like to, but he was certain it was Taehyung who had spoken up.

“Y-your fault? Sweetie, how—”

“I’m just…” The sound of Taehyung choking back his tears made his heart break into two. “He had to help me so much. I don’t know how many times I woke him up in the middle of the night to ask questions—”

“Hyung, don’t say that. You know Jimin-hyung doesn’t mind if it’s you.”

That was true. No matter how much he complained, if it was Taehyung, he’d be willing to lose sleep just to see him smile after learning something new.

“Taehyung-ah, don’t blame yourself. We’re all worried about Jimin, so let us pray he’ll wake up soon.”

“Until then, can we stay…?”

“Ma’am, we will contact you when he wakes up. For now, we’ve prepared a room in the dorm supervisor’s quarters. It’s getting late.”

He could hear his parents muttering as they left, something about how they can totally stay awake even if it took him a week to wake up.

“Boys, I’m going to have to ask you to return to bed, as well.” The nurse said. “I know you are concerned—”

“I have a migraine.”

“Uh… and I have a stomach ache.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Miss, I literally just spent nine hours in an exam room.”

“And I drank too much banana milk. Trust me, my roommate would _not _want me around for the night.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Jimin assumed they had a stare-off with the nurse. Eventually, she sighed. “Fine. But don’t let the other kids see you. I’m only doing this because you two seem like sweet boys.”

There was some shuffling noises and the lights around him dimmed, followed by the sound of a door closing.

“...Should we check on him?”

Jimin figured this was probably a good time to announce he was already awake. It would be pretty awkward if they opened the curtains and found him eavesdropping. He sat up, and pushed himself off the bed. Unsurprisingly, his knees were too weak to support him, and he took a tumble to the cold tiled floor, gasping. He hissed, feeling the tug of the IV needle in his arm.

The curtains were immediately thrown open, and Jungkook knelt in front of him. His eyes were rimmed with red, his face blotchy. Jimin wondered if he had been crying.

“What are you doing out of bed, idiot?” He snapped, but his actions were completely different to his tone. He held onto Jimin, gingerly picking him up and placing him on the bed again, careful not to pull on the tube attached to him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” His throat felt scratchy and his voice sounded weird, but Jungkook didn’t make fun of him like he usually would. “I must look like a complete loser, huh?”

Jungkook frowned. The bed creaked under his weight, and he pulled Jimin into his arms. “You looked cool when you walked out, hyung.”

“Did I?” He laughed weakly. “Did I look like a model for a few seconds there?”

“A very drunk one.” Jungkook mumbled. “Honestly, I was so scared when you collapsed. I had no idea what to do. I told you you’d pass out again!”

“He was crying and panicking, carrying you around.” Taehyung’s hands gently moved his fringe out of his eyes. “It was kind of funny. He forgot where the nurse’s office was.”

“Thanks.” Jimin closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s forehead. And another. Then one more, for good measure.

“Stop, you’re like my mum.” Jungkook whined, but he made no effort to put distance between them.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” Taehyung shoved himself in between the two of them, snuggling close to Jimin. “When I heard the news…”

Jimin could feel his shoulder getting damp. He rubbed circles into Taehyung’s back, and the three of them stayed in silence. Jimin held them tighter. He loved them so much it hurt. Though they were two very different types of love, it didn’t matter to Jimin. At the end of the day, his feelings were real, and that was perfectly alright.

“I was worried.” Jimin mumbled. After simply crying together for the longest five minutes of his life, they had resorted to tangling themselves in a pile on Jimin’s bed. It didn’t feel very comfortable, and his limbs were starting to ache, but he ignored it.

“Hm?” Jungkook looked up at him.

“Just…” He ran his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, damp from where he had embarrassingly cried on him. “That you two would blame yourselves. I overheard what you guys were talking about, sorry.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook gripped his arm. “Nothing hurts me more than seeing you guys suffering for even a second.”

“Jungkook…”

“When I saw you faint, all I could think was, why can’t it be me?” Jungkook admitted. His tear-stained face was so hauntingly beautiful in the dimly-lit room, Jimin couldn’t help but place a hand on his cheek, stroking him softly. “I wish I was the one that was sick— anything to take the pain away from you.”

“Don’t say that, idiot.” Jimin laughed quietly. “You know I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt either.”

“Yeah, but I knew your health was unstable. Ever since you got sick that one day, you’ve been weak. I should’ve forced you to rest more, stop you when you were working too hard—”

“Jungkook, stop it.” Taehyung threw a pillow at him. “This is Jimin we’re talking about. He would’ve done it regardless. The least we can do is pick him back up afterwards, not berate him for his choices.”

“Y-you’re right.” Jungkook stuttered, stunned. "You understand each other the best. I guess that’s why you call each other soulmates, huh?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. It was true they considered the other their destined. Never had they clicked with anyone else so well before, but he didn’t think Jungkook would feel hurt or excluded by it.

“I love you both, okay?” Jimin said, yanking Jungkook into his chest. Jungkook squirmed, but relented after a while, draping his arm across both of his hyungs. “Now, are we gonna celebrate the fact we finished the CSAT or not? I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones moping right now.”

“Speaking of celebrations,” Taehyung pulled out his phone, handing it over to Jimin. It was already open to a group chat, one that was quickly filling up with new messages. “Some of the boys were asking about the grad party, and also, where you were.”

“The grad party? Isn’t that in February? That’s still like, 3 months away.” Jimin groaned. He couldn’t believe they were already talking about getting shit-faced drunk this early on. “Then? What did you say?”

“I may or may not have said you went off with a girl. It seemed like a reasonable thing to say at the time.”

Jimin buried his face in his hands. “Okay, I guess that works.”

“Wait,” Jungkook nudged him. “What’s the grad party?”

“It’s an annual tradition.” Taehyung explained. “Basically a send-off for the seniors. Usually only third-years are allowed entry, but kids who get invited personally can join, too. Jimin is basically always there since he was a junior.”

“Having connections really pays well around that time of the year.” Jimin nodded. “Food, women, alcohol.”

“Yeah, _alcohol_.” Taehyung said, scrunching up his face.

“Isn’t that prohibited on school grounds?” 

The corner of Jimin’s lips twitched. “I mean, who’s gonna snitch? The entire council is there.”

“And you’re going?”

“I have to, don’t I?” Jimin sighed. “They’re gonna riot if I flake out for the first time.”

“Hyung, what about you?” Jungkook asked, peering up at Taehyung.

Taehyung looked disgusted. “Not my kind of scene. I never go. I’m not about to suddenly say yes now that I’m graduating.”

“Wanna come?” Jimin asked their maknae offhandedly. “Keep me company, make sure I don’t drink too much, hm? Catch me if I fall again?”

Jimin’s alcoholic tendencies was no secret amongst the student body. It was well known that he’d be up for any sort of drinking, provided there were no classes or anything important the next day, or he had a competition coming up. He had been itching to drink ever since Taehyung forced him to stop to focus on his studies ever since the semester started.

However, this seemed to be news to Jungkook. He shot him an accusatory glare. “How long have you been drinking?”

Jimin locked eyes with Taehyung. Uh-oh. Was it a sensitive topic to Jungkook? Taehyung pulled a face and looked away— _it’s your problem._

He licked his lips. “When I entered high school?”

“Seriously?!” Jungkook squeaked, swatting his arm. “Hyung, that’s illegal!”

“A sip here or there won’t hurt.”

“If you call a full can a sip, yeah.” Taehyung said under his breath.

“I can’t believe you’d—! ” Jungkook gasped, appalled. “Then, how would you react if _I _drink, then?”

Jimin froze. The thought of Jungkook being drunk out of his mind, his face red and body heating up— it was undeniably hot, and he wondered why he had never used that as his…‘personal time’ material. However, with a pointed glare from Taehyung, he mumbled, defeated. “Yeah, I’d rather see you stick to juice.”

“See? Hyung, wait until you’re of age, at least.”

“But I’ve been off alcohol for months now!” He protested. “I mean, I’m gonna continue after this, but yeah. My point still stands.”

“I can’t— How did I not know you drink? We’ve been friends for nearly a year now!”

Taehyung snorted. “He holds his alcohol well. You probably didn’t even notice if he had drank anything before talking to you.”

“That’s doesn’t make it any better.”

“If you come with me, I’ll keep control.” Jimin tugged on Jungkook’s sleeves, offering him a cute look.

Jungkook pursed his lips. “Fine! But if I see you starting to act like an idiot…”

Maybe Jimin should’ve figured that combining booze, his gay frustrations, and the object of said gay frustrations under one uncontrolled environment was a bad idea. After all, he had 3 months to rethink his decision, and they still went through with it.

Yet as he stole a glance at Jungkook, pouting and whining with his arms crossed, his cheeks all pink and puffy, he concluded that this was fine. He was glad he was done with his exams, and being with his friends was enough for Park Jimin.

He watched Taehyung wrestle with Jungkook’s buttons as they changed into pyjamas, Jungkook’s face growing a violent shade of crimson as Taehyung ran an appreciative hand down his chest and abs. Jungkook shoved him away, and the two erupted into fits of giggles.

He clenched his jaw.

_…was it really enough?_


	6. platonic: 5%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the metre is running out :) are you excited for when it drops to 0%?
> 
> this chapter is a long one and I also hope you don't mind me indulging in my choking kink lmao

Jimin gulped in air, feeling the stretch in his muscles as he extended his arms; the intoxicating feeling of his blood pumping through him, his pulse thrumming to the beat of the music.

His eyes were trained on his reflection in the mirror, watching himself struggle to find the balance between fluidity and sharpness. Yet he realised the beauty in the irony of the chaotic mix. He knows how powerful of a medium dance could be. He’d seen the gazes of the audience— mesmerized as if under a trance, hungrily devouring every little movement. And he loved it. He lived to chase that feeling; a high, euphoric, dizzyingly mad awareness that his very presence consumed the entirety of their being.

But there was no audience to cheer him on during practice. Instead, all he got was the realisation that the part he always messed up was quickly approaching.

Jungkook reached out a hand, pulling him close. Jimin’s eyes flitted down, his fingers focused on curling around his neck properly, applying pressure on the carotid like Hoseok had told him to. Jungkook’s approving breathy moan, and dazed expression as he pressed down almost made him forget they were in the middle of practising.

That was bad news for him. There was no avoiding the next part of the sequence, and his attention had slipped.

Jimin tried his best to remind himself to open his legs wider and step to the side, but his feet were stubbornly slow, and he ended up colliding with Jungkook. The two fell to the ground with a thud.

Jimin rubbed his butt. This wasn’t the first time this had happened today. His tailbone ached, his blood boiled, and he feared his temper would flare if he chose to succumb to frustration.

“Yah!” Jungkook yelled. “How many times do I have to remind you—”

“I know, I know.” Jimin sighed. He lied down on his back, squinting from the harsh studio lighting. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel bad that he was the reason they’ve been stuck there since the afternoon. If anything, he was sure he would’ve exploded by now if he didn’t fear damaging the expensive flooring. “I keep hesitating. My body won’t move the way I want it to.”

Jungkook’s face fell, guilt apparent. “…I guess this is pretty different from what you usually do.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done hip hop before. Like, that’s literally what I did before I started contemporary.” Jimin massaged his temple, trying to keep his own disappointment in. “That’s why it makes me feel even worse. I _know _I can. But my body can’t remember how to anymore.”

“Didn’t Hoseok-hyung mention something about your centre of gravity?” Jungkook knelt down and shifted closer, his hand resting on Jimin’s navel. “Hip-hop is lower, right?”

Jimin pouted. “Yeah, but still…”

“Stop beating yourself up over it.” Jungkook patted him lightly. “I’ll make sure to open my step wider then, to balance out yours. My legs _are _longer.”

“They’re not!” Jimin huffed, nudging him with his knees.

“I’m kidding.”

“You’re not very convincing, brat.”

“I’m only half-joking.” Jungkook gave his sides a playful pinch. “But how else can we do the move, then? We have to transition to the next part in like, two counts. You keep messing up because you’re half a beat late, too.”

It was all because he had to pull back and _then _step to the side and quickly move to his next position that he couldn’t do it. The unnecessarily flashy footwork during the transition threw him off balance solely due to the fact they had to do it on their heels, and not on the balls of their feet like contemporary usually required him to.

“I know. I think maybe I’m trying too hard to focus.” Jimin exhaled with a groan. “I need to let go and feel the music.”

Jungkook grunted. “Then focus less.”

“I’ll get distracted.” Jimin’s lips curled into a smile. “Don’t you think that maybe the part was a bit too sexual? I’m a growing boy with hormones, you know.”

“What, you can’t handle choking me?”

“And you think you could? It’s not as easy as it looks. ”

“Obviously, I can. Who do you think I am?”

Jimin turned to him, giving him a lazy smirk. “Prove it.”

Jimin didn’t know why he even bothered daring Jungkook do anything. The idiot ran on pure adrenaline, always too eager to rise up to a challenge. So why on earth was he still surprised that Jungkook immediately straddled him, his stare burning with determination; his fingers tracing the sides of his neck?

“I can.” Jungkook muttered.

Jimin let out a gasp, his own fingers reaching up to hold onto Jungkook’s. Was this how Jungkook felt? Jimin squirmed under him, his back arching. He thought he would panic if anyone ever choked him, but the slight pressure only served to give him a rush he had never experienced before. Perhaps he’d learn a thing or two from the dozens of times Jimin had done it to him.

Jungkook’s breathing didn’t sound very stable. “Oh? Don’t you always do it tighter?”

Jimin let out a tortured moan, tilting his head back. His entire body felt like he had been doused in flames; his skin tingling. He locked eyes with Jungkook, biting on his lower lip and trying to hold back the unholy sounds building up in the back of his throat. He wasn’t prepared for this sort of attack, mentally and physically. “Jungkook…”

Jungkook swallowed harshly, leaning down ever so slightly. His half-lidded eyes seemed oddly reminiscent of the audience’s when he danced, Jimin mused, his head going blank. “Fuck, Jimin—”

“Okay, I don’t remember this being part of the dance.”

Jungkook threw himself off of Jimin so hard, he practically went flying across the room. His face was red and his hands trembled, his smile forced and unnatural. “H-Hoseok-hyung! How long have you been there?”

Jimin turned to the side, gripping the ground, still trying to catch his breath. _What the fuck just happened? _

“Just for a bit.” Hoseok gave them a suspicious look, walking over to the speakers and slowly setting down his keys on the table.

“You didn’t see anything…?”

“I _wish _I didn’t.” Hoseok scowled. He reached down, pulling Jimin up to his feet. “So, how are things going? You guys good?”

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Uh-”

“I meant with the choreography.”

Jimin steered him to the far corner of the room, shooing the maknae away. Jungkook pursed his lips, taking the hint and turning his back to them, immediately heading off to the water dispenser. Hoseok waited for him to speak with an unimpressed look on his face. “Things are going great. I just keep messing up some parts, otherwise we’re ready to perform anytime.”

“Which part is it?” Hoseok scrunched up his brows. “You think you can have it done before the showcase? It’s in five days, you know.”

“I know.” Jimin grumbled. “Just the part where we meet in the middle, and my ending bit is still a bit messy.”

“Did I make it too hard?”

Jimin stared at Hoseok. His sad tone made Jimin’s heart clench. They had decided to perform on such short notice, and Hoseok had hurriedly helped their dance teacher put together an amazing choreography in just two days. Jimin and Jungkook had spent an entire week learning it, but he still felt like they were short on time. “No, I wouldn’t say it’s impossible to do. I’m just…thinking too much. Did you intentionally make things sexy or what?”

“Listen, in my defence, I didn’t know this choreography was for you two. I just did it as a favour for your teacher.”

“But you knew it was for two guys!”

Hoseok shrugged. “Your instructor told me to make it somewhat commercial because it’ll be performed to the general public, not like, to pros who could appreciate nuances. So, yeah. As disgusting as it sounds, queer-baiting works in idol choreography.”

“How on earth did you plan this out anyway?” Jimin pulled a disgusted face. “I can’t imagine you and her doing this dance.”

“...I may or may not have had Yoongi-hyung as my partner.”

“Okay, ignoring the disturbing connotations behind that,” Jimin raised a hand. “_He can dance?_”

Hoseok’s smirk made Jimin uncomfortable. “He can, alright. Turns out he wasn’t lying about learning b-boy back then.”

“Then why aren’t there more b-boy moves?” Jimin said, frustrated. The dance would’ve been much easier if it was purely hip-hop and he didn’t have to worry about being elegant in certain parts and making sure he could express the right emotions with his body.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said I had Yoongi-hyung as my partner. We didn’t focus much on dancing that day.” Hoseok chuckled. “I can tell you, the choking thing wasn’t my idea. The fact that Yoongi knows the right way to choke someone, boy, does that turn me on —”

“Please shut up.”

“You say that as if I didn’t just see you two humping each other on _my _studio’s dance floor.”

“We weren’t—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hoseok ruffled his hair, effectively shutting him up. “Anyway, don’t stay up too late, okay? It’s great that you two are passionate about this, but take care of yourselves, too. Taehyungie told me you collapsed a few weeks ago.”

“Can you guys stop bringing that up? I’m fine now!”

“If you say so. But, that wasn’t the only thing Taehyung told me, though.” Hoseok glanced at Jungkook, who was typing away on his phone. He lowered his voice, inching closer to Jimin. “What are you going to do? About that whole China offer?”

Jimin’s mood soured at that instant. He had succesfully avoided the topic for a few days ever since Taehyung found out and had a minor freakout with all their friends, which was a task in and of itself. Now everyone was curious about it, but he couldn't blame them. He, too, had acted the same way when Namjoon first brought up studying abroad back then. He worried his bottom lip. “I-I honestly don’t know. I don’t even want to think about it, but the teacher said the representatives are coming to talk to me and I have to decide quickly.”

“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok squeezed his arm. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but you need to think for yourself. Are you sure you want to do martial arts in the future? What about all of _this_? That’s an option, too. Remember that.”

Jimin looked up. The sincerity in his eyes were both intimidating and comforting. “...it’s such a prestigious offer. I can't—”

“But is it what you want to do?” Hoseok pressed on, gripping his shoulder. “You already said fuck it when you entered an arts school instead of a top-tier, science-based one. You dropped taekwondo to study, yet you still sneak out to practice dance at like, 5 am.”

“But—”

“Why did you choose this path only to run back to where you felt safe?”

His words burned like a white-hot iron, and Jimin felt himself recoil physically. “I’ll think about this properly once this whole showcase thing is over, I promise. I can’t put it off forever.”

“Great.” Hoseok squished Jimin’s cheeks together affectionately before pulling away. “Lock up before you leave okay? Don’t forget you have a curfew, otherwise you’ll get locked out. You know, _again_.”

“Sure. Goodnight, hyung.” Jimin waved him goodbye.

The moment the door closed behind him, Jungkook cautiously made his way over. “What did he say?”

Jimin shoved him. “That we need to practice more. Get into formation.”

It was strenuous and most probably a bad idea, and Jimin knew from the burn in his thighs that he would get wiped out the day after, but he still pushed through. Jungkook whined and complained, yet he still danced with full power, hitting every beat cleanly.

When the music stopped, they grinned at each other. Jimin could feel his heart fluttering at the sight of his adorable teeth peeking through.

“You did it.” Jungkook laughed. “You finally did it.”

“After like, twelve tries.” Jimin scoffed, trudging over to the tripod stand and shutting off the recording. 

The two of them huddled together as they watched the clip play, Jimin biting his thumb as he examined himself. He only messed up small details this time around, some so minute that he figured he was the only one who could tell. It still felt icky, knowing he didn’t perfect it, and he was itching to just start up the music again…

“Stop it.”

Jimin’s head snapped back to Jungkook. “H-huh?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you not to be so harsh on yourself? You’re tired, and it’s almost midnight. You even skipped dinner. Making one or two mistakes is normal. We still have a week, okay?”

“Yeah, but…” Jimin knitted his brows. He turned back to the video. “I guess you’re right. We can’t stay here much longer anyway.”

“We still have like, twenty minutes. Play it over again, I need to check my chorus.” Jungkook leaned against him, dropping his head onto Jimin’s shoulder. He tugged on Jimin’s wrist, pulling the phone lower so he could see it. “You look so serious here.”

Jimin didn’t bother looking up. “Do I?”

“So this is what Namjoon-hyung meant when he said he loved your face when you dance.”

“Well,” He smirked down at Jungkook. “Do _you _like my face?”

Jungkook paused. His smile was crooked, almost teasing. “Yes. I do.”

Jimin swore he didn’t blush. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? He was the one that asked; he had full control of the situation. “Then, why is your lockscreen some random girl and not me?”

“Shut up, that’s Ariana Grande.” Jungkook snatched the phone away. “Plus, you guys are my wallpaper. You have no right to be fussy.”

“I know. I just like teasing you.”

They stayed in silence, cooling down under the air conditioner. The floor felt oddly comfortable against his back, despite it being hard and flat. Jungkook lied down against Jimin’s stomach, and Jimin half-wondered if he was falling asleep. It felt nice, just having the air blast through his hair as he fiddled with the ends of Jungkook’s hoodie strings. Even he himself was starting to get drowsy.

“Hyung?”

So he wasn’t asleep. Jimin craned his neck to look at him. “Mm?”

“I…” His voice cracked. He turned away from Jimin, hiding his face behind his hands.

Jimin sat up slightly, frowning. He could feel anxiety building up within him. What was wrong? Did he say something dumb again? Was Jungkook upset with him? He had never seen him so unsettled before. “Hey, hey, what is it?”

“No, it’s just—” Jungkook took a deep shuddering breath. He still wasn’t looking at Jimin.

Jimin’s entire body screamed at him for not understanding the situation at all. The only thing he knew was Jungkook was suddenly having an emotional breakdown, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. He lowered his voice, hoping it could at the very least, help calm him down. “You know it’s okay to tell me anything, right? If you’re not ready, take your time.”

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” Jungkook stuttered. His breaths were coming in gasps and Jimin worried he’d have a panic attack. “It’s almost twelve—”

“Jungkook.” Whatever it was, it had to be important, right? He was his hyung. Hearing him out was his responsibility, but it was important to not force him, either. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself.”

“No, I-I made up my mind last night.” Jungkook looked up.

Jimin gave him a coaxing smile. “Okay, I’m all ears. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I-I’m gay.”

Jimin blinked. Okay, he wasn’t expecting that.

The day had been full of twists and turns, but he never would’ve thought Jungkook would come out all of a sudden. And judging from the desperate look on his face, it must’ve been eating him up inside.

He seemed to panic at the lack of response, quickly rushing to explain himself. “I thought I should at least let you know before you graduate. Oh god, maybe I shouldn’t have- you’re totally freaked out right now, aren’t you?”

“No, no, that’s perfectly fine, Jungkook.” Having had four openly not-so-straight friends almost all his life, sometimes he forgot that being in the closet was a thing. It sucked, and he knew from his hyungs that it felt suffocating to not live as themselves. And so, Jimin took his shaky hands in his. “You’re safe here. We’ll love you just the same.”

“I know.” Jungkook murmured. “I know Jin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung are getting married the moment their Canadian citizenship gets approved and Namjoon-hyung finishes his studies. And you’ve been friends for years. So I figured you two would at least be okay with it.”

“I mean, Hoseok-hyung and Yoongi-hyung have been dating for god knows how long, too.” Jimin chuckled. “But, it’s good that you feel comfortable to tell us.”

Truth be told, Jimin had always suspected Jungkook wasn’t straight. He constantly avoided girls, and he heard Jungkook say he liked Taehyung that one time. To say he was completely surprised would be lying.

But even if he knew this as a fact now didn’t make him feel any better. Just because he liked men, didn’t mean Jimin had any more of a chance than he did now. After all, if he had been gay the whole time, it was even more of a blow to his ego knowing he was in the prime demographic as his potential crush, yet he still ended up as the _friend_.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Jungkook said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jimin traced the veins on the back of his hands with his thumb, hoping that it would help soothe his nerves the way it always did when Yoongi had a hard time coping with anxiety. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset him. “I mean, I sort of figured when you told me you liked Taehyungie.”

Jungkook tensed. His eyes widened and he looked terrified, and he tried to pull his hand away. “Y-you heard me?”

It hurt to think about back then, but Jimin had completely accepted the fact that Jungkook liked his best friend. Now, all he felt was a tiny, minuscule stab, right in his heart. He gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, god!” Jungkook buried his face in his hands, completely giving up on detaching Jimin from him. Jimin could feel his face warming up from the back of his hand. “You didn’t say anything to him, did you? Please tell me you didn’t.”

Jimin allowed himself to smile. A flustered Jungkook was cute, regardless of the circumstances. “Nah, I didn’t. Why are you so embarrassed?”

“I mean,” Jungkook’s complexion was a deep crimson. “It was just a stupid little crush. It’s just cringey to think about, you know?”

The world stopped around Jimin. He gaped at Jungkook, jaw going slack. No, he couldn’t have possibly…

“Did you say ‘was’?”

“I don’t like him anymore, god!” Jungkook whined. His words tumbled out of his mouth so fast, it sounded like a garbled mess, especially with his lisp. “I swear, I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you tell him. I don’t want things to get awkward.”

Despite the threat, Jimin’s dumb mind couldn’t get past the first sentence.

“Wait— so you don’t like him anymore?” Jimin held his breath. He felt sort of cheated now for spending months moping miserably and holding himself back. A huge weight had been taken off his chest. He couldn’t stop the dumb, giddy smile on his face.

“In my defence, have you seen him? Anyone would fall for him if he kept acting like…_that_. I know he doesn’t know what effect he has on people, but like, it’s so unfair. I’m just at that age where I fall for anyone who shows even the slightest bit of attraction, you get me?”

Of course Jimin understood what he meant. When he was 16, he too, dated around, except in his case, they were all female. He was way too riled up, jumping at any chance to impress a girl and lock down his status as the alpha male that every girl wanted. Could he really blame Jungkook for liking the other most attractive man in school?

“So…”

Jungkook puffed up his cheeks. “He’s like a brother to me now. Like, yeah, I liked him. But that was so long ago. It’s weird to think about.”

Jimin’s mouth felt dry. He licked his lips. “Then, what am I to you?”

Jungkook didn’t even seem surprised at his question. He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, hyung. I won’t put my moves on a straight guy.”

He didn’t even know if he could argue with that. Even _he _hadn’t had his sexuality completely figured out yet. Had his reputation as the ladies’ man completely ruin his chances with any guy now? But did he really want to attract men if the only guy he had ever liked was Jungkook? He loved attention, no matter who gave it to him, but wanting to date the same gender was completely different.

However, Jungkook was none the wiser to his inner struggle. He hauled himself to his feet with such vigour, Jimin wouldn’t have known he had spent the whole day dancing if he hadn’t witnessed it himself.

“Well, it’s a quarter to twelve. We still have to lock up and walk back to the dorm.” He helped Jimin up, a soft smile on his face. “Hyung, genuinely, thanks for being chill about all this. I’m glad you know about it now. I mean, I wasn’t exactly hiding it, but it feels good to say it out loud for the first time.”

Jimin, despite all the conflicting emotions within him, knew how big of a deal it must’ve been for Jungkook, a painfully shy kid who probably just assumed it’d be dangerous for him to live as who he was when he didn’t know if he could trust Jimin and Taehyung.

He pulled him into a hug. “This changes absolutely nothing between us. You’ve always been Jungkook to me. I hope you know it’s okay now. You’re safe with me. With _us_.”

Jungkook let out a little sob, trying to hide it behind a cough. “Hyung….”

“I love you, okay?”

“I love you, too.”

How he hoped the meaning behind those words were different, but he didn't have time to wallow in his sorrows. Time was running out, and the days passed by in a blur of endless practices and late-night talks, and Jimin found himself sat in front of the vanity backstage, his palms getting clammy.

“Oppa, is this okay?”

Jimin looked at himself critically, frowning. He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “Can you make my eyebrows darker? Thicken up this part right here. Also, add some more glitter on the lids.”

“But you said that last time!” His stylist whined. “Are you gonna keep doing this? You’ll be late!”

Jungkook’s stylist, a girl from Jimin’s class, gave her an apologetic smile. “And you didn’t listen when we told you no one wants to be his stylist. Everyone knows how picky he is.”

She sniffled, going back in with an eyeshadow brush. “Here I thought I was so lucky. Every junior is dying to get a chance to do your makeup. Ugh, I should’ve just let someone else do it.”

Jimin peeked at his dance partner; the significantly easier client, apparently. Jungkook was humming to himself, his feet tapping to the rhythm of the song playing through his earphones. He was dressed in all black, wrapped in belts and corsets that seemed unnecessary, yet hugged his body just right that Jimin wasn’t complaining. His fringe was curled slightly, parted a tiny bit to reveal a hint of his forehead. His makeup, a dark cherry red, looked absolutely stunning on him.

Jimin could spend forever just staring at Jungkook, but it was right before a performance, and his own appearance mattered to him more. His hair was still slightly bugging him, but the poor girl had already redone it three times, and even he understood he shouldn’t be too demanding on someone who wasn’t a pro.

“What colour do you want on your lips?” She asked, pulling out an array of liptints.

Jimin cringed at all the light pinks and neon orange. “Nah, I have my own lipgloss.”

He was glad he had pocketed his Fenty Gloss at the last minute before their school's bus for the performing team and crew accidentally left him behind. As someone who preferred balm over gloss, he had never really found any use for it. Might as well fancy it up for special events.

As he applied it, he noticed Jungkook staring at him, mouth agape.

“What?” He asked, amused. “You want some, too?”

“...Mm?” Jungkook’s line of sight trailed up from his lips to his eyes, his movements stiff. “Nah, it’s okay. You look good.”

“And you look handsome yourself, Jungkook-ssi.” Jimin got up from his seat, cracking his neck. “Well, we have to be on standby. There’s about two more performances before ours.”

Jungkook stood, doing a final check-up on his hair and redoing his belts. He glanced at Jimin. “Hyung, don’t you think your pants are a bit too tight? Will you be okay dancing in them?”

If anything, being in clothes that accentuated his features put him in the right mood to perform. He could already feel the buzzing in his nerves as he heard the crowd from above. “No, I have to bring out my strong points, don’t I?”

Jungkook’s touch ghosted his sides. Jimin giggled at the ticklish sensation. His button-up hung loose on him, and the slits on the sides ran high. “And this top, too. It’s basically useless.”

Jimin removed his hand, pulling him along to their spot instead. “Well, I’ve danced shirtless before. No big deal.”

“But this is even more of a tease!”

Jimin pretended not to hear him. He nodded at the stage manager who pointed at his watch and signalled them 10 seconds. “So, just checking, you sure you don’t want to do the choking part instead of me? I mean it’s kind of late to ask, but not impossible to change now.”

Jungkook’s face, covered in a thin layer of foundation, gave nothing away, but his ears and the back of his neck turned red. “I don’t think I can. We’ll stick to the original plan.”

Jimin could feel the lift starting to rumble beneath them, smoke pouring out from overhead. “Why don’t you want to? You were so arrogant before.”

Jungkook gave him one last smirk, turning to the front, his head held high as light spilled onto them. “Because I don’t want your seductive expression distracting me, that’s why.”

Jimin didn’t have time to process what he said, nor how confident he had sounded, his body instinctively moving into formation and preparing to dance, his heart racing as the crowds cheered.

The moment the music started, Jimin knew it was different. Being on stage had always felt more special than a mere practice; a feeling of being grounded in reality yet as if he was floating through his dreamscape. He felt alive, fire coursing through him, every inch of his skin electrified. He drowned in the melody of the song as the the deafening music overwhelmed him; the rhythm resonating through his very bones.

He felt exposed, revealing himself to the hundreds of people in the hall, their eyes watching his every move, their breaths held with every snap of his hips; every sway of his arm; every lick of his lips.

This was it. The feeling he could get addicted to.

The neon lights blinded him, yet he could make out Jungkook’s silhouette dancing next to him in perfect sync. He could feel how aggressive he was when dancing, the ground shaking every now and then. How different they were, yet they still stood on the same stage, united through the art they loved so much.

Instead of looking at the crowd like Hoseok had told him to, Jimin met his eyes, snaking closer and wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s neck, hearing that familiar delicious gasp as he tilted his head back, his gaze seeming to pierce through Jimin. The neon lights warped around his body, accentuating the dips and curves. Jimin bit his lip, loving the small shudder that went through Jungkook as he ran his palm down his chest in one swift motion.

He could hear the crowd going wild, but it truly felt as if they were in their own world. They parted, quickly moving onto the next section of the song. This side of Jungkook when he danced— it was mesmerizing. His clenched jaw, his athletic movements, his cocky smirk. Jimin found himself being spurred on, putting his all into the last performance of his high school years.

The fiery look in their eyes, their movements blending into one, the matching grins knowing they both were at their peak— Jimin wished he could preserve this moment; this exhiliration forever.

Then, the music stopped and the lights came back on. Jimin’s breathing was heavy and his chest hurt, but he could make out the sounds of chairs clattering back, the audience standing up and clapping the loudest he had heard that night.

Jimin straightened up, lacing his fingers with Jungkook, and sunk into a deep bow.

The lift lowered, and the two of them were plunged into the darkness of the low-lit backstage once more. They were both drenched in sweat and out of breath, but Jimin could feel the excitement radiating off of Jungkook.

Jungkook broke into a giggle. “Hyung, that was amazing!”

Perhaps Jimin was still a bit too immersed in the feeling of performing, because his adrenaline ran high, the overly sexual energy within him screaming to be let out. And the only person that was there was Jungkook.

“Mhm,” He could see Jungkook clenching his jaw when he took a step forward. Jimin felt Jungkook’s breath ghosting his lips as he tilted his head upwards. Jungkook’s eyes, all glassy, watched him, transfixed. “You did a good job, Jungkook-ssi.”

They were so close, it’d be so easy to just press their lips together…

But Jimin pulled away.

He slid off the lift, determined not to think about what he almost did. Thank goodness he caught himself in time. He shouldn’t let his dumb, primitive brain fuck him over just like that. Jungkook might think he was taking advantage of him or mocking him, especially since he just came out recently.

“Jimin-ssi…”

He felt Jungkook press himself against his back, his lips brushing against the shell of his ear. He nibbled lightly, and Jimin let out a low groan, leaning into his touch. Jimin could feel their clothes sticking together to their skin, and he caught Jungkook’s wrist before he could put them on his hips. He glared up at him, well-aware of how he sounded less angry than he had intended. “Don’t. I’m all sweaty.”

Jungkook’s eyes, an unfamiliar, hungry; almost _needy _look in them, sent shivers down his spine. He opened his mouth to say something, but he could just sense the tension that was bound to come no matter what Jungkook was about to say.

Thankfully, they were saved by one particularly hyper guy launching himself at them.

“You guys killed it!” Hoseok slung an arm around the two of them, shimmying closer.

Jungkook tugged his hand away from Jimin hesitantly. He beamed at Hoseok, making Jimin frown at him. When did he get so good at wearing masks and hiding his feelings? Jimin was tempted to see him unhinged once more. He shifted his weight uncomfortably at the thought of an wild, uncontrolled Jungkook.

“Did you like it?”

“Of course I did,” Hoseok’s smile somehow lit up the entire backstage. Yoongi appeared behind him, sipping his iced coffee with a blank expression. Hoseok pulled him into the hug. “_We _loved it. Even Yoongi-hyung was saying you guys are pros.”

“You did?” Jimin gasped.

“You know he won’t admit it.”

“Hyung, don’t be so difficult. You can just say whatever’s on your mind.”

Yoongi looked away, muttering. “You guys looked like pros.”

“Thanks,” Jimin smiled, linking their hands. Instantly, his face softened, and he laced their fingers together. “I really appreciate you two coming to my last show.”

“Last show?” Jungkook asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re still gonna dance after this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, uh,” Jimin shared a startled look with Hoseok. “Well, I won’t be focusing on dance when I—”

“Is this about the thing sabom told me? The whole scholarship thing?”

Jungkook sure was full of surprises this week. Jimin felt all the blood drain from his face and he giggled nervously. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Of course I knew.” Jungkook snorted. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. I mean, everyone knows you love dancing. You were literally born to dance. I thought your decision was obvious.”

“How would you know that?” He argued half-heartedly.

“Shouldn’t we leave?” He heard Yoongi hiss to Hoseok. He could feel Yoongi trying to pull away from his hand.

“I kinda want to see where this goes— Ow! Babe, I get it, stop poking me!”

Jungkook waited as the two of them walked away, his arms crossed. He had pulled Jimin to the side, out of the way of all the staff hustling around as they prepared for the next half of the performances.

“Listen, Jimin—”

“Hyung.” He corrected gruffly.

“Jimin-ssi.” Jungkook lifted a hand, his fingers brushing the edges of his smudged eyeliner. Jimin flinched at his touch. “Let’s start this conversation over. I know you always bottle up your feelings, okay? You have so many worries, but you never share it with us. The instructor told me you have until graduation to think about it, right? That’s enough time for you to open up to us. We’re friends.”

“I know.” Jimin mumbled. “I just… don’t know if I want it or not.”

“You don’t smile like you do when you dance.” Jungkook’s fingers slipped under his chin, pushing his head up slightly. “I have no right to choose for you, but nobody’s that blind. You’re worried about what the students would think, what the teachers would say, how the reps would react; but when have you ever decided for anyone but yourself? What’s stopping you from doing what you want?”

“Since when did you become so mature, Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin laughed breathily. “You’re always the one giving me advice and all these pep talks these days. You’re starting to sound like Namjoon-hyung.”

“Since you helped me break out of my shell.” Jungkook said coolly. “If you hadn’t talked to me that day, being all weird and so alarmingly open, I’d never be the man that I am today. That’s why no matter what you’d do, I’d repay you by having your back. I’ll trust you the way you believed in me and took care of me.”

“No matter what?”

His gaze was steely; sure. “No matter what.”

Jimin wrapped his arms around the younger boy, someone he didn’t know would be one of the most important people in his life almost a year ago. He breathed in deeply— the same, flowery scent that fit him so well. “…you’ve really grown up. You’re so cool now.”

Jungkook’s grip around him tightened. “It’s all thanks to you, hyung. You’re my beginning.”

Jimin laughed; a clear, bittersweet sound.

“Then I hope you'll keep me around until the end.”


	7. platonic: 0%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning; underage drinking and a lot of inappropriate content (tbh idk why you've read this far if you didn't expect this)
> 
> personally, this is my favourite chapter. I've been sitting on it for so long, I'm excited to finally post it :))

“Are you sure about this, Jimin-ssi?”

Jimin stared at the papers spread across the table, waiting to see if he would regret his decision, but he didn’t. His heart felt lighter than it had in months. He was sure this was what he wanted; that this was the path he needed to take; a choice for him to make.

He smiled. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Handshakes were exchanged, and goodbyes were said, and Jimin stepped out of the office, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Did you do it?”

He glanced up. Taehyung leaned against the wall, the setting sun behind him painting his skin golden. He looked other-worldly, but his good-looks were offset by his apparent nerves, his fingers restlessly tugging on his sleeves, his feet kicking the ground without aim.

Jimin let out a breathy laugh, nodding.

Taehyung pushed himself off the wall, grabbing Jimin and pulling him into his arms. “Good job. It must’ve not been easy.”

Jimin wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder. Hearing his soothing voice after such a long day was all he needed. “I was so scared. I thought the guy would kick me in the face, he looked so insulted!”

“I mean, who wouldn’t be?” Taehyung patted his head. “You okay?”

“I mean, sort of? It’s kind of terrifying to think about my future now that all my plans have gone down the drain.”

Jimin glanced back at the office door, the room where he had completely changed his own life. A scholarship to study martial arts at China was nothing to sneeze at; especially since it was considered an offer of high prestige.

And he had just turned it down.

After months of agonizing over his career path, Jimin realised; perhaps the fact he stopped doing taekwondo to save time yet never missed any dance practice said a lot about his priorities and the things he could never let go, and dance was one of them. He couldn’t fathom doing anything but dancing and being on stage, feeling the burn in his muscles and hearing the cheers from the crowd. The last few weeks had only solidified this as a fact in his mind.

“And your parents are okay with it?” Taehyung asked softly. Both of them came from underprivileged families, and not taking a full scholarship when offered was a big deal.

“We kinda argued a bit.” Jimin admitted, recalling the teary phone call they had when Jimin made up his mind. “But they can’t say they didn’t expect this. Dad went and talked to the counsellor and all after that whole mess, and she talked it through with him, so I have their blessings now.”

“Well, they kicked up a fuss even back then when you chose to enter this school, but you still managed to prove them wrong and do so many amazing things.” Taehyung kissed his forehead. “Wherever you go, the flower road will bloom for you. I hope you know that. And I’m not just saying that because you won’t be moving to a whole other country, which I’m still mad about because you told me so late and gave me a scare.”

“Sorry about that,” Jimin said quietly. “I didn’t want you to have one more thing to worry about.”

“I cried like a baby.” Taehyung pulled away, clapping him on the back. “But if you did move, I would’ve supported you regardless.”

“I love you, Taehyung-ah.” Jimin grinned. “Now, should we go celebrate?”

“I love you, too, but I am _not _letting you drink in the daytime.”

And so, they ended up in Jimin’s room, choosing to lie in each other’s laps in comfortable silence.

Jimin peered at the crisp uniform hanging from his wardrobe. Half-filled boxes were scattered around his room, his desk bare except for his box of accessories and his notebooks. He almost couldn’t believe it. He was graduating high school. The day had finally come.

“Are you sad?” Taehyung asked, running a gentle, soothing hand through Jimin’s hair. Jimin repositioned himself in his lap, turning around to look up at him.

The morning had gone by in a blur of tears and messy goodbyes, gifts piling up in Jimin’s arms, even from boys. Taehyung had made fun of him for being so popular, only to be swarmed by his own secret admirers, including a handful of people he accidentally charmed by cornering them and asking for a favour.

However, noticeably enough, the seniors gave each other knowing looks— the real party was yet to begin.

“Kinda. I’m scared I won’t see you again.” Jimin mumbled. His fingers picked at the lint hanging onto Taehyung’s sweater.

“You know I’ll still annoy you with my calls everyday, right?”

“I meant physically.”

“I can just arrange a meet-up with everyone.” Taehyung shrugged. “Maybe get you back into billiard. Get a drink or two.”

“You? Drink?” Jimin laughed, shoving him. “Jungkook can’t come then, he’d still be living in the dorm. No way he’s gonna sneak out to a _bar_. And I know he’s gonna sulk about it.”

“Speaking of Jungkook.” Taehyung’s hand paused. Jimin had gotten so used to him playing with his hair that he whined in annoyance. “Isn’t it about time he gets here? Shouldn’t you get ready?”

Jimin sighed, pushing himself off of Taehyung’s lap. He was right, of course. Jimin had been stalling, dreading the thought of dragging Jungkook to a lion’s den, so to speak. He was perfectly fine with mingling and losing himself in the moment, but he was worried Jungkook wouldn’t be comfortable with the atmosphere; or worse, get taken advantage of, even if he was the one who challenged Jungkook to come with him in the first place.

“I still can’t believe you’re not going to the last party of your high school life.” Jimin grunted, pulling on his denim jacket. He peeked at his friend. “You sure you don’t want to go? I can still talk to the boys.”

Taehyung scoffed, giving him a pat on the butt. “No thanks. I’ll stick to taking care of your hungover future self.”

“I know I can count on you.” Jimin’s hand lingered on the gloss on his desk that Namjoon had told him to throw away. He felt a slight hint of guilt at still keeping a gift from his ex, but what did it matter? It wasn’t like his feelings for Jungkook was gonna go anywhere. “Should I put this on?”

“Oh, you trying to look sexy or something?” Taehyung teased. “If you’re planning on picking up a girl tonight, I’ll resign as your caretaker. I do not want to walk into an adult film featuring my best friend.”

“That’s illegal. I’m a minor.”

“Says the alcoholic.” Taehyung leaned back, chuckling. “Don’t think I forgot the time I walked in on you getting it on with a girl. You’re not as innocent as people think.”

“I think I told you to forget.”

“I was so scarred!” Taehyung said, dramatically clasping his hands to his face. “You know you don’t walk around like you’re a virgin. People can tell.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, choosing to look at himself in the mirror instead. Taehyung was babbling nonsense. It was true he wasn’t a virgin, but he had met plenty of guys who acted all macho but had never even kissed anyone. He didn’t mind if people really _could _tell, but Taehyung had no idea what he was talking about.

He turned sideways, messing his hair up a bit more. His mother had always scolded him for being too particular with his appearance, but he knew he found satisfaction in looking good. Draped in silver chains and light makeup, he nodded to himself.

He looked good.

As if on cue, the door swung open, and Jeon Jungkook strode in, exuding confidence that Jimin rarely saw him showing off-stage.

He looked dashing in a white button-up so sheer, Jimin had to remind himself to not stare. His earrings glinted in the light, his curly black hair still damp from showering. “How do I look?”

“Stunning.” Jimin closed his jaw. He felt his lips stretch into a smile. “Like a work of art.”

“Jimin-ssi, I’d say you look pretty handsome yourself.” Jungkook purred, trailing a hand down his jacket. Jimin stiffened.

“You guys, I’m _right _here.”

Jungkook turned, nonchalant. “Hi, hyung. Care to give me a compliment, too? I took some advice from Hoseok-hyung on how to dress, so I know I look like a snack.”

Okay, so Jimin knew whose ass to kick after the party was done then. Hoseok knew his secret kinks and fetishes very well, being the only other sadist in their group of friends. He should’ve known Hoseok would use it against him.

“You look like a drowned rat with your hair like that.” Taehyung grinned.

Jungkook went cross-eyed trying to look at his fringe. He touched the ends of his hair, trickling droplets of water onto the floor. “I must’ve forgotten to dry it. Eh, it’ll air dry on it’s own. No big deal.”

“Idiot, you’ll catch a cold!” Jimin scolded, tugging him down onto his chair and pulling out his hair dryer. Jungkook bounced on the chair giddily, a blast of hot air puffing his hair up as Jimin worked his fingers through the curls.

“Hyung!” He shouted over the loud sound. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you look handsome. Are you trying to pick up girls or something?”

Jimin huffed. “Why does everyone think I’m dressing up for girls?”

“...then are you dressing up for me?”

“Brat.” Jimin said, smacking him on the back. “Who taught you moves like that?”

“_You _did.”

Jimin tried to contain his smile. “Then, I don’t want to hear you using them on anyone else, okay?”

“No, only you.” Jungkook giggled, cheekily avoiding Jimin’s brush which was trying to work out a knot in his hair. “You better not bring any girls into your bed tonight, okay? You have to play fair.”

Jimin’s hands stroked Jungkook’s nape, and the younger boy shivered under his touch. Jimin had gotten far too comfortable returning to their old routine, almost dangerously so, pushing down the feelings he had for Jungkook everytime they spoke. He was sort of proud of himself for keeping the perfect, delicate balance right up to the night before he was due to move out. “Then are you saying you’re gonna be in my bed tonight, Jungkook-ssi?”

Jungkook pulled a face at him, and Jimin swatted him.

“Can you two stop flirting?” Taehyung sighed, getting up from Jimin’s bed. He shrugged on his coat, and slipped on his shoes. “For once, I’d like to go a day without gagging.”

“Oh, you’re leaving?” Jungkook pouted. “Hyung, you’re not gonna come with us?”

“I told you guys it’s not my kinda scene. And I already promised Jin-hyung I’d be online tonight.” Tae said, glancing at his watch. “Call me if anything happens. And Jungkook, make sure Jimin doesn’t drink too much.”

“Got it.”

Of course, it was a mistake to trust that Jungkook would be able to handle a drunk Jimin.

Jimin guzzled another shot, welcoming the fire in his throat and the buzz in his ears. The hastily put together neon lights were making spots of purple and yellow dance before his eyes, but Jimin couldn’t care less. His attention was entirely on the only first-year at the party— Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook’s face was flushed red, the drink in his hand threatening to spill. His eyes were glazed over, his face blank as ever. Jimin stifled down a snort; it must be his first time drinking. Not that any of them were supposed to, but it was just a tradition; a proper send-off for the seniors every year.

Despite being a pretty frequent drinker who could hold his alcohol well, somehow, he had overestimated himself. He vaguely remembered dragging Jungkook along to keep an eye on his drink intake, but it had clearly failed, judging from how blurry the room was getting.

Jimin pulled himself together enough to be concious about what was happening around him.

“Truth or dare?” The guy next to Jimin asked one of the girls sitting across from them. Of course, this was what every guy at the party was waiting for. Every year, the same games are played, the same questions are asked, and couples are formed. Being close to the seniors meant he had been present for all three years he had been there; and he had done some pretty unspeakable things with the older girls.

“Dare,” The girl, a very pretty second-year, answered. She twirled her hair around her finger, biting her lip while staring at Jimin. Jimin raised an eyebrow, feeling a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. It had been a while since he slept with anyone. He should probably try to get back in the game and move on from Jungkook, if the opportunity presented itself, and he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t find her attractive.

The guy next to him scowled, noticing the way she looked at him. “Let’s start off tame. I dare you to take off your—”

Jimin’s fingers latched around the guy’s wrist. He could feel the pulsing in his temple getting worse, but he couldn’t care less. He gave him a sickly sweet smile. “No nudity, remember?”

A vein popped in the side of his neck, but the guy clicked his tongue, snatching his hand away. “Fine. Just do another shot, then.”

She gave Jimin a grateful look, and threw the shot down her throat. She coughed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand before meeting his eyes blearily. “Jimin-oppa, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is is true you and Hye-su broke up?”

He had figured someone would ask him sooner or later, but he didn’t think it would happen so early into the game.

Jimin couldn’t help but look across the room at the the girl sitting by the couch. Him and Hye-su didn’t last long, but she was a nice girl. Until recently, she was still trying her best to talk to him, finding excuses left and right to strike up a conversation so frequently to the point a lot of people assumed they were still together. Jimin was impressed by her determination, the same trait that made him like her in the first place.

So then, why did they break up?

He had called it off when he realised he couldn’t pay much attention to her, telling her that it was because of all his practices and duties as part of the student council. But of course, that wasn’t the only reason.

He felt his heart twinge a little. He had failed to treat her well purely because he was distracted by a man he wasn’t supposed to like, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. It would hurt her more than him. “Yeah. We broke up a few months ago.”

The second-year’s face lit up and she tried to hide it behind her hand, but Jimin was pretty used to girls by now. He could see them giggling amongst themselves.

Time seemed to drag on forever, and with every turn, Jimin grew more and more worried about Jungkook. The guys seemed to enjoy giving him an endless stream of drinks to test his alcohol tolerance, and Jungkook wasn’t resisting either. He could only sit and watch when Jungkook’s turn came and he was dared to show off his abs (which were arguably on par with Jimin’s, but Jimin swore he wasn’t looking _too _hard).

The night was going as he had expected, and Jimin leaned back, content. He had a glass of alcohol in his hands, and he was surrounded by good-looking people who looked up to him. What more could he want?

Then, as stuff usually went, the girls had planned to direct the questions onto one another strategically.

“I dare you to make out with Jungkook. None of that pecking bullshit. Full on. With _tongue_.”

Jimin felt the glass crack under his palm.

_What sort of obscene dare—_

Jungkook, though drunk, was still very much the same guy with the same principles. He froze, his eyes widening as the girl approached him coyly. Despite having survived sitting next to girls for the past hour, the prospect of kissing them was a whole different story.

She climbed over Jungkook, spurred on by the cheers, her arms creeping around the junior’s neck. He seemed panicked, and almost as if he was about to puke down her dress.

Jimin reached across the circle and grabbed the girl, pulling her into a deep kiss.

The girls gasped,and the guys hollered. At first, she tensed, then she slowly slid off of Jungkook’s lap, turning her head to the side to deepen their kiss. Jimin opened his mouth, letting his instincts take over.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a long while, but his body definitely remembered how to.

His gaze trailed to Jungkook’s face as he kissed her; his flushed cheeks, the shock in his eyes, the plumpness of his lips. He was so close, with his hair all ruffled up, a view that Jimin thoroughly enjoyed, if not for the girl slobbering all over him. He wanted nothing more than to throw her off and just grab Jungkook’s face instead; to feel him against his lips, to prove the only person on his mind was him, and him alone.

When they broke apart, the girl sighed happily, and Jimin forced a smile as the guys wolf-whistled and slapped his back. “You dog! You couldn’t stand any other guy getting the girl, huh?”

“Yeah, totally.” Jimin gathered his jacket up in his arms, and got up. He was getting light-headed, and all he could think about was going back to bed. The night had been completely ruined for him. “Hey, uh, I think I’m gonna leave now. I still have to pack.”

Following a chorus of awws and boos, Jimin grabbed Jungkook by his arm and dragged him out, ignoring his weak protests.

The hallway was a stark contrast to the high-energy of the party; silent and empty. They didn’t get very far before Jungkook tugged him backwards and slammed him against the wall.

“Jimin-ssi, why did you do that?” He asked, his voice low and husky from liquor.

Jimin blinked. His junior was far too close for comfort; his knee between Jimin’s leg to prevent his escape, his fingers tight around Jimin’s wrist. Jimin could feel the heat crawling up his neck and face; Jungkook’s hot breath against his ear causing his insides to tingle.

Jimin sucked in a harsh breath. His knees felt weak, weaker than they had ever been in his life. He could almost collapse against Jungkook if it wasn’t for the fear of accidentally grinding against his thighs. “What are you—”

“Answer me.”

He stared up at Jungkook. Where did this guy suddenly get such balls to talk to him like that? Not that he was complaining much. He kind of liked being up against the wall and being bossed around—

Okay, he was definitely drunk. He bit down on the insides of his cheek, trying to focus on the present.

“Why?” He asked breathily, well aware that his own voice sounded as scratchy as Jungkook’s. He couldn’t read him, no matter how much he studied his face, no matter how much the distance between them had closed before he even realised it. “Did you want to kiss her?”

“No.” Jungkook grabbed his hand, eyeing the small cuts along his palm where the glass had broke. “Look at you, you’re bleeding.”

Jimin let out a whimper as he ran his tongue over the cuts, the warmth and the ticklish feeling making Jimin’s toes curl. “S-stop, that’s unhygienic.”

“You say that as if you didn’t exchange _mouth fluids_ with a random girl a minute ago.”

“Listen, I just did it as a favour for you.” Jimin tried twisting his arm free, but he should’ve remembered that Jungkook also did martial arts and was also far stronger than him. “You can thank me later. You can’t pretend with me. I know you too well to know that you wouldn’t be comfortable with that. Even if you want to pass as straight, it’s too much for you.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. Jimin watched him patiently. He could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processed the information.

“I… I guess so. I’m not thinking right. I thought you were just being a drunk idiot. You shouldn’t have taken that dare to chug down a whole bottle.” Jungkook sighed, his head dropping against Jimin’s shoulder.

“I can handle my alcohol, you know.” Jimin snorted. “You, on the other hand, is smashed.”

“Who cares?” He groaned, grabbing a fistful of his own hair.”Ugh. Why the fuck were you looking at me when you kissed her anyway? Was I seeing things? Or was I so drunk that I imagined shit?”

He raised his head, his gaze desperately searching Jimin’s.

“...I just thought you looked cute when drunk.”

“While kissing a girl?” Jungkook gave him a crooked smirk, unconvinced. He took a step forward, backing him even further into the wall.

“Shut up.”

For a moment, he thought he had fucked up and pissed him off. Jungkook stayed silent, scanning his face. Jimin held his breath, waiting for Jungkook to speak, look away; anything that wasn’t as torturous as having him pressed tight against him, his breath ghosting on his lips ever so teasingly.

“Make me.” Jungkook finally murmured, his lips brushing against his by a slight millimetre. He leaned in, and Jimin gasped.

_ What was happening? Was this real, or just a fever dream?_

Jimin parted his lips, watching in fascination as Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut, his lashes long and pretty—

“Am I interrupting something?”

Jungkook jumped, and Jimin’s mouth ended on his shirt, his lipgloss staining the fabric. Not that he cared, because his nose stung from where he had accidentally slammed into Jungkook’s collarbone. He had arguably gotten the short end of the stick, considering the only consequence Jungkook suffered was a stained cloth.

The girl from before, the one he had stopped from stripping, stood in the hall, shifting uncertainly.

The maknae awkwardly moved to the side, his fingers sliding off of Jimin’s wrists. His skin felt far too cold now that Jungkook wasn’t holding onto him.

“No, I was just… we were practising a self-defence move.” Jimin said, hastily wiping his chin where his gloss had smeared.

Jungkook nodded, his hands tucked deep into his pocket. “Yeah. Sabom would be angry if he forgot next morning.”

Jimin prayed the girl forgot he was moving out tomorrow and had long since dropped taekwondo, because Jungkook apparently did.

She gave them a suspicious look, but walked towards them nonetheless. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for what you did earlier. Thought I’d catch you before you went back to your room. Some people can be scumbags. It’s nice to know guys like you exist.”

Jimin scratched his neck. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

She hesitated for a moment. Then she leaned over, and pecked him on the cheek. “As thanks.” She said sheepishly. “If you’d like, we can go out for coffee next week? You’ll be free, right?”

Jimin was vaguely aware of Jungkook watching him like a hawk. He was pretty sure with how red her her lipstick was, it had left a mark on his face. “Uh, I’ll have to get back to you about that. I might have a lesson that day, sorry.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at him. _What the fuck was that, bro? _She could easily ask around and find out he wasn’t even going to be in town by then. Apparently they both turned into dumb, floundering idiots when drunk.

She smiled, but she seemed to realise what he couldn’t say, turning around. “It’s okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Sure.”

“Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Jimin spun around to see Jungkook with his arms crossed, his expression grumpy. He groaned, fed up with his hot and cold attitude. “What’s up with you now?”

Jungkook sluggishly grabbed the ends of his sleeve and scrubbed Jimin’s cheek harshly. “Are you not embarrassed by that? You look like a player.”

Jimin scoffed. “If you’re that bothered by a woman’s mark on me, feel free to add your own.”

Before he could react, Jungkook leaned down, and sunk his teeth down on his neck.

“Ow, what the fuck?” He gasped, trying to pull away. Jungkook’s lips felt hot against his skin, his tongue tracing the bite marks slowly as if savouring his taste. Jimin shivered at the action, letting out a moan, squirming in his arms even as he knew it was futile. “S-stop, Jungkook…”

Jungkook pulled back, licking his lips. His gaze darkened as he ran his thumb over the bruise. “There. I don’t expect you to have any complaints?”

Jimin could feel his tears forming, and he blinked them back, the spot where Jungkook had marked him throbbing dully, spreading heat all over his body. He ducked his head, covering his face behind his arms.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jungkook’s voice seemed to have dropped an octave as he tried to pull his hands away from his face. The bitter smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, and Jimin flinched, moving away.

“I-” Jimin shrugged him off, hiccuping. “Why would you do that?!”

Jungkook looked dazed and confused. “Do- what?”

“Giving me a hickey, idiot!”

The younger boy must’ve been a lot more drunk than either of them realised, because Jungkook just grumbled, “But you’re mine. You promised to only do things like that with me.”

Fuck, he sounded so possessive and adorable.

Jimin knew it was wrong. But he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

They were both far too drunk to think properly; their bodies far too close to miss the way Jungkook pressed against him so sinfully; their lips far too close for Jimin not to kiss him.

Jimin grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged him down, crashing their lips together.

It felt so good— a taste so sweet and bitter; the kiss he had been imagining for so long finally happening, and he loved it. He loved the way Jungkook moved against him, the way their lips fit so perfectly, the way it felt so right, yet so wrong.

Jungkook’s hand snaked around his waist, pulling him closer. He could feel Jungkook’s tongue against his, their hips desperately searching for friction, and it was driving him insane. They was no turning back now, Jimin thought to himself as they stumbled back to Jimin’s room, Jungkook kicking the door shut behind him, and the two of them spilling onto the bed.

“Jimin-ssi.” Jungkook said huskily, his hands roughly tearing off his jacket. Hungrily, he littered mark after mark on Jimin’s neck, every bite harsher than the last, an animalistic side of him that turned Jimin on endlessly. “You look so fucking hot like this.”

“Jungkook—” His back arched as Jungkook sucked on his sweet spot. He dug his nails into Jungkook’s arm. “Fuck, you’re so rough.”

Jungkook’s hands fumbled for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on. He pulled apart, his gaze devouring every inch of Jimin, his fingers grazing the marks he had left on his skin. His half-lidded eyes looked up at Jimin, his voice strained; needy and whiny. “Touch me.” He murmured, the pad of his thumb pressed against Jimin’s lips. “Make me yours.”

Jimin’s hands quickly worked on unbuckling his belt, his body moving almost entirely by instinct. He was drunk on lust; his jaw tightening as he palmed Jungkook over his boxers with his uninjured hand, hearing the younger choke back a moan. Jungkook clung to him, hardening under his touch. The sounds of his breathy whimpers almost made him snap and just turn the boy over so he could fuck him senseless. He wanted to hear him scream and plead for him, not caring if people could hear them.

“J-Jimin,” He gasped. “Please…”

Did he even know what he was begging for?

Jimin slipped his tongue in his open mouth, his hands going under his waistband. He could feel Jungkook flinch at the added contact, and he wrapped his hand around his cock, slowly pumping him. He was thicker and bigger than Jimin had anticipated, but Jimin wasn’t complaining. It felt odd to feel another guy’s dick in his hand, but he reminded himself that it was Jungkook’s, and the thought alone made him determined to pleasure him. The tip was leaking pre-come, and soon, he was fully erect, thrusting into Jimin’s hand erratically.

“Shh,” Jimin murmured, but Jungkook wasn’t listening. Jungkook threw his head back, a guttural sound building up in the back of his throat as Jimin picked up his speed. He had never jerked off another guy before, but seeing Jungkook lost in euphoria made him hard.

“Ah, wait, I’m coming—” Jungkook managed, and Jimin watched as he spilled his cum into his hand, moaning Jimin’s name.

“That’s a lot.” Jimin chuckled darkly, letting go of Jungkook. He brought his hand up to Jungkook’s lips and hesitantly, Jungkook wrapped his lips around his digits, trying his best to clean him off. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing, his adorable teeth accidentally biting down at times. Jimin loved the eagerness in his eyes, but he pulled his fingers out, wiping them against his pants, and grabbing his chin instead. “Don’t swallow. That’s dirty.”

Jungkook seemed confused, but Jimin leaned down, kissing him again. He couldn’t get enough of him, even if his lips tasted bitter and salty. But Jungkook seemed to want more, his hand guiding Jimin’s to his thigh. He didn’t register what was going on until he felt his finger graze his hole through his boxers.

“W-wait.” Jimin stuttered, breaking their kiss. “You want me to-?”

Jungkook nodded, his hands tangled in Jimin’s hair.

Jimin stared down at the beautiful boy that he loved, lying on his bed so defencelessly, staring up at him with drunken eyes. Damp sweat, his powdery sweet perfume, the stale alcohol on their breaths, the dizzying smell of sex in the heated air. Jimin tried to gulp down the lump growing in the back of his throat. This was something he had imagined, wanted, no— needed for months. Why couldn’t he just carry through with it?

Jimin looked away, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. What the fuck were they about to do? They were both men. They were both young, Jungkook incredibly so. What did any of this mean? Did Jungkook like him, or was he just horny and couldn’t think better under the influence?

Jimin felt the tears start to fall. He curled his fist in Jungkook’s shirt, and he sobbed into the crook of his neck. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t risk it all just for a night of drunken desires, no matter how much his body was reacting to Jungkook, no matter how tempting it was when Jungkook practically presented himself to him. He couldn’t lose Jungkook over a stupid one night stand.

And that was when he knew he had to stop.

Jungkook’s hand crept up to his head, and stroked his hair.

The gentle gesture just made his heart burn even more painfully.

“Jimin?”

Jimin didn’t even bother getting mad at him for dropping the honorifics.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked. Jimin could feel how Jungkook was slowly getting hard again beneath him, and it took all he had not to succumb to his fantasies brought to life. It would be so easy to just slide his hands down his pants and continue where they left off; to not worry about the consequences.

The guy he had been chasing for so long, calling out his name and asking for him to make love to him, to claim him as his own.

He did that to Jungkook. Jungkook found him desirable. The thought made his head spin.

“No, I’m not.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to Jungkook’s neck, nipping at the skin carefully, and he felt Jungkook’s hips buck up and accidentally grind against his own erection. Jimin hissed at the sensation, pleasure building up within him, but the pain twisted his insides. He swallowed harshly, dipping his head. “Fuck, I love you too much, Jungkook. I can’t do this to you. Not when you’re drunk. Not when I know you don’t feel the same.”

Before Jungkook could say anything, Jimin captured his lips in a slow, deep kiss. He hoped he was able to pour every emotion he had desperately hidden for so long, Jungkook’s lips moving against him ever so gently, the salty taste of his tears against their tongues a painful reminder of what he was about to let go.

When they pulled apart, Jungkook’s expression was torn. His eyes pierced Jimin, the desire so apparent in them, but Jimin could see how cloudy they were.

He pushed himself off of Jungkook. “I’m sorry.”

And he ran without looking back.


	8. platonic: negative

Jimin banged his fist against the door, trying to hold back his tears. “Hyung, open up!”

He heard hurried footsteps, and the door swung open, revealing a disgruntled Hoseok wielding a baseball bat and Yoongi cautiously following behind him with a kitchen knife in his hands.

The moment their eyes focused on him, they breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Oh. It’s you.” Hoseok said, putting his weapon away.

“Hyung…”

Jimin threw himself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. It didn’t matter that both him and his boyfriend were only in their underwear and hastily thrown on shirts, clearly still drowsy. His heart ached and his world was falling apart. They were the only friends he trusted enough to welcome him anytime, and their apartment was a ten-minute walk away from campus. The other half of their group was in America, blissfully unaware of his mental breakdown, though he was sure they’d interrogate him the moment Hoseok snitched on him.

“Jimin-ah, what happened, why-?” Hoseok shushed him, but Jimin could tell he was panicking.

Yoongi caught Jimin’s wrist, a muted, alarmed expression on his face. “You’re bleeding.”

This new piece of information only served to freak Hoseok out more. “He’s bleeding?!”

Jimin said nothing. Even he himself had forgotten about his wound. He heard cabinet doors swinging open at random as Yoongi frantically rummaged around for the first-aid kit.

“Open your hands for me.” Yoongi said. Jimin held onto Hoseok tightly, but extended his arm. He flinched, feeling the sting as Yoongi cleaned the injury and bandaged him up. It wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be, a few angry red lines barely a few centimetres long. Jimin didn’t even remember it bleeding that much. “I don’t think you need stitches, at least. Can you tell us what happened?”

“Broke a glass.” He said simply. Yoongi nodded, catching on that he didn’t want to elaborate. He nuzzled into Hoseok's chest, sniffling.

“Do you need anything?” Hoseok asked softly. “Ice cream? Coffee? Maybe a drink—”

“Wait, Hoseok.”

Yoongi grabbed him by the shoulder, turning Jimin to face him. Jimin looked up stiffly. “W-what is it?”

Yoongi frowned, taking in the countless hickeys on Jimin’s neck; his wrinkled clothes; his messed up hair. He tightened his jaw. “Jimin, who did this to you?”

“I—huh?”

He scowled, his expression torn and anguished. A vein in the side of his neck popped as he struggled to hold back his anger. His voice was unnaturally level as he spoke, choosing his words carefully. “You’re drunk.”

“Hyung—”

“Did someone force themselves on you?”

Hoseok gasped, apparently just realising his unkempt appearance. He tilted Jimin’s jaw, exposing the harsh bite marks darkening on his skin. He balled his fists. “It’s the grad party today, isn’t it? A bunch of rowdy teens drinking and fooling around like hormonal monkeys…”

The two glanced at each other. Yoongi considered the bat, his eyes glinting. “Say, how easily do you think you can sneak us in?”

“Not a problem,” Hoseok snatched up his keys, his hands already on the doorknob. “I’d say I have some pretty good connections.”

“No, no! Wait, please!” Jimin shrieked, grabbing him by the arm. He lowered his head. “…It’s Jungkook.”

Silence fell.

Then the room erupted in madness once more.

“Jungkook did this to you?” Hoseok roared. “That bastard, I shouldn’t have given him those fashion tips—”

“Let me see if I have some gloves around here…” Yoongi muttered, picking up his knife again with a cloth.

“Stop, listen to me!”

They stared at him, stunned.

Yoongi gritted his teeth, but the knife clattered against the counter top out of his grasp. “Well?”

Jimin took a deep breath, and before he knew it, he was rambling. “W-We were drunk, and things went out of hand. I just- Can I stay here tonight? I fucked up bad. We were kissing, then I told him I liked him, and I ran away- ”

He clasped his hands over his mouth, but the sobs racked his body. He couldn’t pretend to be strong. Not when Yoongi looked at him with such a pitiful gaze, not when his heart burned more than his throat when he downed liquor. “Please, I can’t see him tonight. Don’t let me go back there…”

Hoseok tugged him close, letting him bury his head in his chest.“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

Silently, Yoongi pressed a glass of water to his hands. Jimin accepted it gratefully, washing it down his throat.

“But aren’t you moving out tomorrow? You can’t avoid him forever.” Hoseok’s voice was quieter now, more sympathetic.

“I don’t want to think about it.” Jimin mumbled.

Yoongi pursed his lips. “Then let’s get you to bed. Sleep it off, get you sober.” 

He pulled him along to their bedroom, careful not to let him trip. Jimin let Yoongi wrap a blanket around him, sitting down next to him on the mattress. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Jimin’s taking the bed?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “But, babe, we only have one couch. I mean, you’re small and we can cuddle—”

“Who says we’re not sleeping with Jimin?”

“Huh?” Hoseok blinked owlishly.

“I said, we’re _cuddling_. All of us_._ No arguments.” Yoongi’s blank stare and flat tone didn’t give away any hints whether he was kidding or not. “That’s fine, right, Jimin?”

“I think I’d like that.” Jimin murmured. He slid under the covers, giving his best puppy-eyes to Hoseok.

“Fine.” Hoseok joined them on the bed, wrapping his arms around Jimin protectively. Jimin tucked himself under his chin, liking the way they automatically tangled their legs together. “No stealing the covers, or I’m kicking you out. If you weren’t heartbroken, I’d make you take a shower first. You reek of alcohol.”

“Be nice, don’t make him cry.” Yoongi chided, tentatively putting his arms over Jimin as well. “Go to sleep, hm? You can think more tomorrow. For tonight, just rest.”

“Thank you, hyung. I’ll be sure to pay you back someday.”

When morning came, he woke up with a bad hangover, the worst he had had in a long while. Yoongi was already awake beside him, texting away on his phone.

“Oh, you’re up.” Yoongi grabbed the cup of water on the bedside table and a blister of pills and handed them to Jimin, never looking up from his screen. “Hoseok’s already out. He went to pack your stuff at the dorm.”

“Shouldn’t we go help?” Jimin rubbed his face, sitting up.

“Do I look like I’m dying to?” Yoongi snorted. “He said he expects us to be there in fifteen minutes, but take your time. We’re already ten minutes late anyway.”

“What?” Jimin squeaked. “Why didn’t you wake me up, then?!”

“Because you needed sleep.” Yoongi turned to him. His eyes not so subtly drifted to the hickeys lining his neck. “Besides, I don’t think you’re too keen to see that Jungkook again.”

Jimin felt his cheeks getting warm. “Is it that bad?’

“Very. Hoseok has concealer around here somewhere, but I don’t know if it’ll suit your skin tone.”

“I’ll give it a try anyway.” Jimin sighed, dragging himself out of bed and into the bathroom. “I can’t go to school looking like this.”

While Jimin was busy washing his face and gargling mouthwash, he heard Yoongi’s ringer go off.

“Babe, uh, I’m kind of in trouble.” Hoseok’s shrill voice rang throughout the room. Jimin peeked at Yoongi through the mirror, not missing the way he flinched at the volume. Jimin would’ve thought he had gotten used to it after years of dating Jung Hoseok, but apparently not.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked wearily.

“It’s Jungkook, he’s fucking scary!” Hoseok hissed. “Almost kicked down the door, asking for Jimin—”

Jimin froze. Jungkook was looking for him?

He gulped. Slowly, he dabbed the concealer against the bitter reminder of last night— Jungkook’s marks. He could still feel the burning in his guts when Jungkook left them on him almost animalistically, the heat of Jungkook’s cock in his hand, the tortured bliss on his face as he came…

“Where are you now?”

“I’m hiding in Taehyungie’s room, and he’s helping me block him, but he does _not _look happy. Oh my god, I feel like I’m being targeted. Is this what Katniss felt like?”

“You think it’s safe for Jimin and I to come?” Jimin could see Yoongi struggling to pull his pants up with one hand, hopping around the room and gathering his belongings.

“Safe? Uh, he’s literally going ballistic right now.”

“Okay, we’ll be there soon.”

“Wait, what—”

_Click._

Jimin dreaded hearing Yoongi’s footsteps coming closer. He bit his lip, checking for anymore obvious marks. His neck looked a bit splotchy, but to the untrained eye, he had done a semi-decent job hiding them.

“Ready to go?” Yoongi leaned against the door, holding out a clean hoodie for him.

Jimin smiled weakly. “Well, I can’t run away forever, right?”

The moment Jimin walked in on the scene, he wished he could. Jungkook was struggling in Taehyung’s grasp, his hands bound by Taehyung’s tie. Hoseok cowered in the corner, his fingers moving across his keyboard at lightning speed.

“You’re hiding stuff from me!” Jungkook roared, trashing about. “I’m so sick of all this! I’m not a kid anymore— you don’t get to decide what’s best for me. All your damn lies, I can’t stand it!”

“Just gag him, oh god.” Hoseok whimpered. “He’s gonna kill me, I just know it.”

Taehyung seemed determined to blindfold him instead, another tie ready in his hand. “Jungkook, calm down, people will hear us.”

“That stupid fucking farce, trying to be perfect. Running away the moment he thinks he screwed up. He cares more about his image than he cares about me—”

Jimin felt his heart clench.

“So? What will you do?” Yoongi glanced at him. “Hoseok told him you’ve already moved out. You can choose to run away. That’s always an option, too. We’ll pick up your stuff for you.”

Jimin swallowed harshly. The sight of Jungkook in near-tears, desperately calling out his name whilst Taehyung tried his best to restrain him— it made his stomach churn.

He took a step forward.

“Taehyung-ah, stop.” Jimin said softly.

Jungkook froze, the tie slipping off his face. He whipped around, his features contorted in disbelief and anguish. “Jimin…”

Taehyung stepped back warily.

“He’s not an animal,” Jimin said quietly, approaching them. Slowly, he reached down and untied his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook fell to his knees, grabbing onto his arms. His back was shaking, and Jimin was tempted to hold him and pretend nothing ever happened if it meant they could go back to the way they were. Seeing Jungkook lose his composure, coming undone— it hurt him more than he would ever admit. “I-I thought you were gone, that I’d never get to see you again. I—”

Jungkook cried inaudibly into his hands, his words stuck in his throat. Jimin glanced at Taehyung, gesturing at them to leave them alone. His grip around Jungkook’s hands tightened. “It’s okay.”

Taehyung hesitated, apprehensive. His line of sight shifted over to Jungkook, and Jimin immediately understood why he seemed so worried. There was no telling if Jungkook would lash out and snap again.

“Come on, Tae.” Hoseok draped an arm over his shoulder and steered him out, giving Jimin one last look and a thumbs up. “We’ll fill you in.”

Yoongi pointed at his phone, mouthing, _call if anything happens. _Then, he turned around and trailed behind their friends, the door closing behind him. Jimin could hear him say, “You won’t believe it when we tell you, little guy.”

When he turned back to Jungkook, the younger was already looking up at him.

“Where were you last night?”

Jungkook’s unexpectedly sharp tone made Jimin flinch. He almost forgot the real reason he was so terrified to face Jungkook. “I was over at Yoongi-hyung’s house.”

Dark blue and purple rimmed his eyes, his cheeks puffy, the tip of his nose red. He was still in last night’s clothes, Jimin noted. His roughed up shirt, his slightly unzipped pants, his belt hanging loose around his waist.

…still looking like Jimin just fucked him.

“You had no idea how worried I was. I waited for you all night. I didn’t know if you’d come back and get locked out your room. You suddenly disappeared, running off to god knows where, and you were drunk out of your mind; what if you died frozen on the streets? Or mugged? Or worse, looking like you did, perverts would—”

Jimin cupped his face in his hands, his guilt chewing him up. He couldn’t deny that he didn’t think ahead last night, but now that they were talking, he was glad he did what he did, even if it seemed cowardly. He had made use of the fact the gates were still open for students who needed to leave for early morning flights, and made a run for it. His mind was a tad bit clearer, and at the very least, they were both sober. “I’m sorry, I was just…scared.”

Jungkook got up to his feet, wobbling. He seemed pained. He turned Jimin’s palm over, glaring tearily at the bandage wrapped around it. “Was it me?”

Jimin blinked. “Huh?”

“Did I scare you? Were you disgusted because of me?” His voice, so innocent and sad and little, so different to his yells of anger from before. “I-I know you’re straight. I don’t know what came over me. You said you liked me, but you were probably confused because of what we did. I-I’ll forget all this happened if you want. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Please, I just don’t want to lose you, Jimin.”

Was there any point in hiding anymore? They had passed the point of no return.

“No, no. Listen to me, Jungkook.” Jimin wrapped his fingers around Jungkook’s wrist. As gentle as he could, as if Jungkook was fragile as glass, he pressed his lips against his skin, where raw red lines ran where the tie had been. “I like you. I liked you so much, for so long, I didn’t know what to do. You were drunk; god, _I _was drunk. It was too much for me to handle. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook seemed stunned, his doe eyes opened wide and his lips parted ever so slightly.

“You liked me? For real?” Jungkook asked timidly. “Since when?”

“For the longest time, maybe even before I realised it.” Jimin smiled sadly. “Back then, I was too dumb to understand my own feelings. I thought I was the straightest dudebro alive. Then, when I found out you liked Taehyungie, it was too late.”

“But I told you I don’t like him anymore.”

“Yeah, well after that,” Jimin chuckled bitterly. “I didn’t want you to think I was playing with you.”

“You were worried about that? You know I would never…” He paused. “Yeah, you’re right actually. If I just came out and you started acting all weird, I’d think you were experimenting.”

“It felt like I was taking advantage of you. I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

“I told you,” His voice was whisper-soft. “No matter what, remember?”

Their eyes met, and for a moment too long, they were quiet, just taking each other in. Jungkook hesitated, then leaned in.

“Can I?” His hand traced Jimin’s jaw, and Jimin nodded, despite not being quite sure what he wanted to do.

“We did plenty last night, why are you being all shy?”

“Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook pressed his lips against his cheek, running them down his jaw. Unlike the night before, it was sweet and gentle, as though he was apologizing through his kisses. His thumb circled the bruises on his neck. He giggled in Jimin’s ear, planting kisses on the back. “You’re not very good with makeup. I can still see them.”

“I had to use Hoseok-hyung’s concealer, give me a break.” Jimin laughed, pulling away.

“As much as I want to tease you about all that,” Jungkook tilted his head, bashful. “I actually have a confession, too.”

“Mm?”

“You know how I said I liked Taehyungie-hyung?” He intertwined their fingers. “I actually had a crush on you before that. Since the first week we met, maybe?”

Jimin didn’t know how to react. He gaped at Jungkook. “What?”

“You were cute, and tried so hard to get my attention.” Jungkook turned red. “I thought you’d ask me out, but you never did. Then I found out you were so painfully straight; I mean, you’ve dated more girls than the number of times I failed English, so I gave up. I decided I’d fall for other people.”

Jimin groaned. Was this karma for thinking he could always get what he wanted? “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hey, we’re both idiots here.”

“B-but, then why were you always teasing me?” Jimin huffed. “That choking thing, the locker room, last night— I don’t even think I can list them all!”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened, a small smirk on his lips. “Well, I can’t help myself. You’re always so adorable.”

“If I’m so charming, then,” Jimin’s heart was pounding. The question hung on the tip of his tongue. It felt silly to be worried after everything they had done, but it still felt important to him. “What are we?”

“What do you think?” The younger’s hand snaked around his waist, tugging onto his belt loop.

Jimin smacked his chest. “Now’s not the time to act like a brat.”

“But you like me like this, don’t you?” His grin was infuriating, but Jimin’s heart fluttered nonetheless. He sort of wished Jungkook was always as docile and obedient as last night. “Well? Ask me again.”

Jimin took this as his cue to put him in his place. Surely he knew that Jimin could also be in control if he chose to? He could be more intimidating if he so pleased, and judging from the mischievous look on his face, he was intentionally riling him up.

Jimin seized him by his shirt, tugging him close.

“You’re all mine, right?” Jimin asked huskily. “There’s no one else on your mind?”

“I-” Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. Jimin licked his lips, and he saw the way Jungkook’s gaze nervously flitted down, expectant, his bravado crumbling. “I don’t like him anymore. That was months ago.”

“Yeah, but like I said,” With his free hand, Jimin tugged on the nape of his hair. Jungkook groaned lowly, already pressing closer against him. “Are you mine now?”

“All yours.” Jungkook said breathily.

“Hm?” Jimin pulled him closer by his waist. “Then, kiss me.”

Jungkook didn’t waste any time, tilting his head sideways and pressing their lips together. Somehow, it made his knees shake, his heart race, and his insides warm, all at once. Despite it being nowhere near as feral as last night, it held more meaning; all the silent words and feelings they could never say. Jimin melted in his arms, loving the way Jungkook leaned into him so much, he could feel himself being pushed back, almost falling over if it weren’t for his hand resting on his back.

Jungkook was the first to pull away, his face flushed and lips red. Jimin stifled a laugh at how flustered and dazed he appeared.

“When we first met,” Jungkook gasped, his hand trailing up Jimin’s chest. “I liked you. I liked you a lot. You were so confident, so smart, so pretty.”

“How about now?” Jimin gave him an amused smile. If only he could see himself. He didn’t even realise that Jimin thought the same of him, too.

“You’re still really pretty and confident.”

“You left out the part where I’m still smart.”

“Hm,” Jungkook frowned. “I don’t know. I kind of have to dock off points because you jerked me off then ran away like an idiot.”

“I mean, we can always just continue where we left off.”

Jungkook huffed. “At least take me on a date first.”

“Get used to it,” Jimin pecked his lips. “You’re dating Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook.”

“You—”

Someone cleared their throat. The two of them turned to see Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung standing in the doorway awkwardly.

“Uh, I don’t want to ruin your moment, but we kinda still have to pack.”

“I definitely need bleach.” Yoongi grumbled, walking away.

“Oi, get your ass over here.” Hoseok scowled. “We barely made a dent in your stuff. You guys can have your fun later.”

“I told you you brought too many stuff.” Jungkook muttered in his ear before shoving him towards their hyungs. “I’ll help you pack.”

“Thank you.”

Jimin caught up to them, but his friend wasn’t in nearly as good as a mood as he was.

“The van leaves in thirty minutes.”

Jimin spun around, confused at the passive aggressive tone in Taehyung’s voice. Taehyung was sulking, his arms crossed and bottom lip stuck out.

“What is it?” He stopped in his tracks. He ran a comforting hand down Taehyung’s arm. He lowered his voice, not wanting the others to hear. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, I just-”

“You just what?”

Taehyung whirled on him, flailing his arms. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice you liked each other! I mean, I see you guys flirt all the time, but I thought it was all platonic!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Jimin said sheepishly. “There’s been a lot of stuff on our plate.”

“Ugh,” Taehyung huffed. “I’m more angry at myself for not realising, and we’re soulmates! I just assumed you were straight.”

Jimin glanced at Jungkook, the guy he had been chasing for almost an entire year without even noticing, now his boyfriend. The maknae slowed his pace so the three of them could walk together.

Jimin laughed. “Well, I guess you can throw that out of the window.”

Jungkook slung an arm around his shoulder. He smiled that cocky, infuriating yet lovable smirk of his.

“Not so platonic anymore, now, is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, it's a happy ending! thanks for coming along on this journey and reading this far, it's been a fun time, especially since I got to write a more light-hearted story than I usually do :)) I hope everyone had a good time as well
> 
> thanks for reading, love you all, wash your hands and stay safe <3


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